


Team 6

by skidoodle



Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: AKA HELL, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Attempt at Humor, Based on the What Can I Do? MV series, Brian is done with people’s shit, Coming of Age, Complexes, Conflict, Dowoon is misunderstood, F/M, FLUFF okay, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, GET READY IT’S GONNA BE A LONG ONE, He wants to win that tournament, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, I’m me so..., Love Triangles, M/M, Pining, Puppy Love, SLOW BURN YALL, Self-Doubt, Sports!, Strangers to Friends, Sungjin is competitive, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Unrequited Love, Wonpil is very gay, and Jae is only here for the food, drama?, i really tried guys, internalized issues, lots of fluff, puns, some rare underage drinking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2019-07-10 01:43:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 65,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15939173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skidoodle/pseuds/skidoodle
Summary: The situation is as follows: Wonpil likes Sungjin. Sungjin likes Jiwoo. Jiwoo likes Brian. Jaehyung likes Brian, too. But Brian only likes music. Everybody likes Dowoon. Dowoon doesn’t like anyone. Um… How exactly did this happen?





	1. Hi, welcome to Chili's

**Author's Note:**

> Yes yes I know what you’re gonna say: YOURE ONE YEAR LATE, LOSER!!!1! I mean, valid, buuuuut! I have been writing this since the WCID MV came out last august and i just couldnt bring myself to post any of it, oops. I’m not done yet, but I’ve written enough to have a really good idea about where I’m headed and how I want this all to go. So please give this a shot!! I’ve got lots in store and I hope you’ll stick around to find out what alll those things are! Enjoy!! Love you!
> 
> ps: SLOW BURN FTW

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes yes I know what you're gonna say: YOU'RE ONE YEAR LATE LOSER!!!1! I mean, valid, buuuut! I have been writing this since the WCID MV came out last august and I just couldn't bring myself to post any of it, oops MAYHAPS I AM A COWARD. I'm not done with the whole fic yet, but I've written enough to have a really good idea about where I'm headed and how I want this all to go! So please do give this a shot!! I've got lots in store and I hope you'll stick around to find out what allll those things are! Enjoy!!! I lub u guys :")

He heard the loud screaming before he actually saw its source.

But judging by the cataclysmic intensity of the noise, he knew exactly what was damaging his precious, pitch-perfect eardrums.

The man a few decibels away from losing his hearing is Park Jaehyung. Better known as Jae. Senior. He’s the lowkey popular kid that everyone knows. Chill, not too chill, but also no chill. A living paradox. Super-extra-multi-talented and just a little bit scatterbrained. Is it lunchtime yet _?_

“Ah, shoulda known it was Pretty Boy,” Jae mumbled to himself as he resumed his dreadful walk toward class, mourning yet another day wasted in school. He could be eating right now. Or sleeping. Or both- interchangeably! _A crime against youth, really. Just one more year, come_ on, he thought sadly.

He spotted the familiar fluff of black hair as he desperately tried squeezing through the crowded hallway. He would be lying if he said he didn’t crane his neck to catch a glimpse of the boy himself.

Enter: Yoon Dowoon. Sophomore. Smashed head-first into the brick wall of puberty and crashed through the other side with the appeal of a classic tsundere heartthrob. He’s pretty much the guy you want to be, or be _with_. Has never been seen speaking to anyone for more than a few glorious minutes (until the person is insulted, ignored, or both).

Jae finally made it through the hoard of fanatic, clearly heterosexual girls with only minor scratches but missing a sock? How the hell-?

He silently prayed his sock was the only thing stolen.

He finally reached his homeroom with a few minutes to spare, plopping down into his seat with a familiar squeak of the faulty chair. Ah yes, you can practically _taste_ the aroma of sleep-deprivation and raging hormones floating through the hot air.

“What’s up, Bill?” Jae asked, not bothering to glance at the slouched figure sitting next to him.

The figure? That’s Kim Wonpil. Junior. Savior of the universe as we know it. A gift to this world. The best friend you totally wish you had, but sadly don’t. Everyone’s soulmate, probably? Human embodiment of a moral compass. Horrendous at forced cuteness, a god at natural cuteness. Visual Prince. Again, a _gift_.

“I told you not to call me that, _Park Jaehyung_ ,” Wonpil reminded as he jotted down something in his infinitely expanding binder of incoherent notes and occasional scribbles of a certain someone’s name-  _whaaaat_ who said that?

Jae looked up at Wonpil for the first time that morning with a dazed expression on his face. “Hey! Honorifics?!”

Wonpil shyly giggled, the lilted sound enough to melt any heart.

“Stop that," Jae scolded fondly, "Don’t do that cute thing to cushion your disrespect.” He scoffed when he saw the blush of guilt dust Wonpil’s cheeks. He really didn't have it in him to be a pretend-brat for more than two seconds.

More students continued to file in with similar downcast expressions, and no one could really blame them if the first thing they had to look forward to after waking up at ass o’clock in the morning was analyzing heaps upon heaps of sinusoidal graphs. Is it too late to transfer back to kindergarten?

Though the extent of Jae’s mathematical knowledge would be making a barely comprehensible graph about hunger as a function of time and money, the class went by quickly- what with bothering Wonpil every few minutes, and bothering Wonpil, also bothering Wonpil. Did he mention bothering Wonpil?

\----------

Wonpil hastily considered the pros and cons of smacking Jae while the teacher’s back was turned, but regretfully decided against it. _Think of it as exercise for your power of will_ , he encouraged himself. _An immensely long, one could even call it unending,_   _exercise_.

He loved his hyung very much, but would sometimes equally love to flick him square in the forehead. Wonpil’s too soft to cause any real damage though. He was pretty sure he could be just as annoying as Jae could, their minds both edging more on the side of atypical. It’s one of the reasons they got along so well!

He felt another pen poke at the side of his throat (it wouldn’t be surprising if it had hit the now bulging vein running down his neck). And before he could change his mind about that bullshit excuse he force-fed himself about power of will or whatever, the bell rang. Jae’s life, saved by the bell it seems.

The quick rustling of bookbags and materials became amplified. Most of the rustling had begun a few seconds before the bell though, contrary to the teacher’s adamant protests.

But Wonpil was drifting off into the confines of his wild imagination, hardly fighting the squeal that threatened to burst out of him. Remembering _where_ exactly he was and _who_ was currently looking at him with mild concern and confusion, he turned his head to the side and slapped himself, cupping his mouth with his hands so he could scream into them very briefly.

“Everything’s fine," Wonpil coughed out. "See you later, hyung, bye!” He picked up his things and threw back a wave as he rushed out of the classroom, almost tripping over someone’s loose backpack strap (“Oof! S-sorry!”).

Jae stood there, unsure of whether he should feel concerned or- No yeah, concerned.  

The junior speed-walked (well, as fast as one can “speed-walk” when hoards of tween girls were walking _arm-in-fucking-arm_ , creating a literal schism through the hallway), trying his best to reach his destination as promptly as possible.

He had a free period and, more importantly, the opportunity to finally be in the company of his favorite person. He blurted half-hearted apologies while breaking the chain of 12 year olds standing in the way of his desperate love story.

Today was a really special day and he couldn’t control himself as he crashed a little too violently through the library’s double-doors, disturbing the serene quiet inside and earning himself: two very stern looks from the librarians, and an exaggerated shush from at least 5 people.

He bowed briskly and rushed toward the back of the large room, only doing his damned best to slow down to a cool walk when he spotted _him_.

“Shit shit _s_ _hit_ -” Wonpil hissed, shoving the heels of his feet into the ground in an attempt to preserve his dignity (nonexistent) and swagger (again, nonexistent). “Okay, okay, we’re good- I’m talking to myself, stop talking he can probably see your mouth moving, oh my God-” Shoving a hand over his lips, he pretended to scratch his philtrum -not his finest moment- to effectively hide his loose mouth behind twitching fingers.

This cornered square of the library helped him to ease up a bit. He felt the familiarity of bookshelves and amber colored lights envelope him into a soothing hug, reminding him of the shelter they could offer Wonpil. In this semi-isolated area, Wonpil could be as embarrassingly lovesick and nervous as he wanted, unseen by nosy, mean classmates.

He slowly walked over to his spot at the dark mahogany table, and lowered himself into the seat across the boy with sleek black hair.

 _Finally_ , meet Park Sungjin. Senior. Serial overachiever. Also likes cereal! President of his graduating class. The most adult non-adult. Certified faux-dad with an incredibly non-dad bod (if ya know what I mean). Singular object of Wonpil’s devoted admiration, appreciation, and love.

“Hey that seat’s-" Sungjin started, but stopped himself after looking up, "Oh, hey!"

Somehow, he'd already set up a wide array of worksheets and textbooks over the expanse of the table in the short two minutes since the bell ringing.

“Thought someone was trying to take your seat,” he continued, chuckling.

“Nope, just me,” Wonpil replied with a choked laugh. He felt a little dizzy from the realization that Sungjin was saving his seat, just for him. He wanted to squeal. Like a little piglet. This was a lot.“Hey, um, hyung, I heard that today’s your birthday? So, happy birthday~” Wonpil beamed shyly.

“Thanks! I actually didn’t think anyone would remember. Or even know, for that matter. Who’d you hear it from?” Sungjin asked with curiosity in his large eyes.

“What?”

“From whom did you hear that it’s my birthday today...”

“Oh, haha, uuuuuuuuuuum, just a friend?”

“A friend?”

“Yeah, a friend...”

_Think, Wonpil, think!_

“JAE!” he yelled out a little too loudly. He violently cleared his throat, “I heard it from Park Jaehyung, your classmate!” _Phew, bless Jae-hyung and his endless list of friends._

Sungjin hummed in acknowledgement and Wonpil let out the bundle of breath he was holding. Wonpil hummed happily as relief washed over him. His mind flashed with memories of the reminder he’d set up weeks ago for this very day. Surprising how much you could find out from stalking someone's SNS. Many, many things, birthdays among them.

The two boys mostly kept to their work from that point. Sungjin only spoke up to apologize for shaking the table by rubbing the eraser too hard over his paper, or to ask sheepishly if it’d been Wonpil’s leg that he accidentally kicked,  _not_ the table’s leg-supports. But Wonpil laughed, albeit a little excessively, each time, insisting that it was no trouble at all, even though his shin felt like it was about to snap in half like a feeble lil’ chicken bone (Was he pathetically weak or was Sungjin ridiculously strong?) and his pen had dragged itself across the page when the table was shaken.

Still, Wonpil would steal small glances every now and then, staring longingly at the impressive swipe of Sungjin’s jaw, the faint outline of his brows under the curtain of glossy bangs, the dull shine of his silver earrings. He was wearing a cool black hoodie, making his brown eyes seem even warmer.

He noticed the tiny, tiny grin that would grace the other’s face when he seemed to have just figured something out, as he would proceed to fervently scribble down a few lines worth of words. Or was it numbers? Wonpil couldn't be sure, but he wished he could be close enough to distinguish.

It had been only a few weeks since school started, but Wonpil had developed an undeniable crush on Sungjin. He’d decided he liked Sungjin from the first time he saw him. On that fateful first day, the older boy had (quite chivalrously, might he add) steadied Wonpil when he tripped and almost face-planted. _Almost_.

Even with this promise of fate on his side, Wonpil had waited for Sungjin to say something or introduce himself first, only having the courage to sit across from the senior everyday. It felt like an eternity waiting, but it had been a week later that Sungjin initiated conversation.

He’d grown perfectly familiar with both Sungjin and their -yes, _their_ - section of the library over the past couple of months; he knew the students who frequented the cozy area, the exact shade of the table he and Sungjin sat at, and could probably make a pretty damn accurate sketch of the perspective from his seat simply from memory.

So he was surprised to see a girl whom he didn’t recognize wandering about. Sure, the usuals might sometimes not show up, but there hadn’t been anyone new around here in the past month- especially this far back in the library. The book shelves there were for freshman-level courses, and this girl seemed way past that awkward time of adolescence.

Wonpil watched her curiously for a few seconds but dismissed his intrigue, grounding himself back to more pressing matters, like homework and staring at Sungjin… Maybe not in that order.

But as quickly as the period had come, it left. The bell rang, and Sungjin’s quick, smiling goodbye was the last thing Wonpil would have to hold onto for the time being.

\----------

Jae managed to make it through almost the entire school day without stabbing himself in the eye, so that was a victory. However, his patience was quickly wearing thin, and if it wasn’t his cornea getting stabbed, it would be someone else’s.

“Don’t even think about it,” Wonpil sighed out.

“What? I didn’t even-”

“Hyung, you get this really freaky look in your eye when you’re conspiring. Seriously, your thoughts are so loud that the nearest police station probably heard them, too,” Wonpil looked at him seriously, proceeding to place his finger over his ear and listen into a conversation over imaginary earpieces. “And from what I’m hearing, they’re on their way here right now to take you in for attempted murder.”

“Brat! As your beloved hyung I should have your full support, I feel highly disrespected,” Jae responded. “I think my sentiments are perfectly justified.”

“Not in the court of law, they’re not,” Wonpil laughed. “Just… try to get through the last couple of hours, yeah?” He held up a compassionate fist, compelling his hyung to behave: “Fighting!”

“Yeah yeah, whatever,” Jae weakly said, holding up an even weaker fist.

“Oh- I almost forgot! If anyone asks, you told me it was Sungjin hyung’s birthday today, alright? Thanks!!” Wonpil scrambled off into the mass of people in the hallway, not waiting for Jae’s startled response.

“Fuck, it’s his birthday today? I didn’t even know-”

\----------

Jae was actually a bit excited for the next class. Music and food hold a very special place in his heart, so Music Theory wasn’t thrown into the “dislike” pile like most of his other lessons.

Don’t misunderstand, Jae was an extraordinary student, but he just thought that there were more fruitful things to learn in _his_ life than SOHCAHTOA and MITOCHONDRIA IS THE POWERHOUSE OF THE CELL.

This class was an infinite relief to a racing mind like Jae’s. He didn’t need to adhere to a rigid outline because music was fluid. He could mold it into whatever he wanted it to be!

People tend to underestimate the power of music, and are even quick to judge the music tastes of others. But each person has a different experience with melodies and beats, feels different things and relates to music in different ways. It distinguishes people all while bringing them together… Confusing and vague, but Jae liked that. It meant that there wasn’t necessarily a clean-cut answer.

And even though Music Theory got batshit crazy sometimes, Jae was deeply thankful for the class; it greatly helped to put his buzzing head to work, channeling the rapidfire income of ideas (some genius, most dumb) into a productive outlet. And because of that, he could probably say that he was at the very top of his class.

Perhaps only one person rivaled Jae in passion and interest.

That person was Kang Younghyun. Also known as Brian. A Junior. Angsty lone wolf. Musically inclined with the talent to prove it. Has only two expressions: indifference or contempt. 2Kool4Skool™. So readily avoided, he might as well be called the black plague. _The_ most unbothered bitch.

Jae wasn’t really sure if the guy even knew he existed at all, but he still admired Brian for his talent. The effort he put into this class in particular (an antithesis to his otherwise perpetual apathy) made his work all the more impressive. It was a testament to the clear love he had for music. Jae could definitely respect that.

Okay, he wasn’t planning on having a sleepover with the younger as they braid each other’s dyed and dying hair because 1) he would probably get punched in the face, and 2) their hair wasn’t long enough to be braided so what was the point of this analogy? Oh, right!-

There was still something so noteworthy about Brian. So much so that Jae would sometimes find himself slipping into ambiguous territory. Maybe it was jealousy, though doubtful, or maybe a strange pride for the junior.

Jae was a social creature who feeds off of others, making it hard to stay unenthusiastic on a rough day when he’d look into the confident, sparkling look in Brian’s eyes during class.

Speaking of unenthusiastic, the famous (or, rather, infamous) heartbreaker, Dowoon, was also in the same class, looking as though he’d been replaced by a statue replica of himself. He remained cold and unmoving for much of the lesson’s duration, only staring forward and paying no mind to all the enamored whispers and looks surrounding him.

Or maybe he did notice the attention. Maybe that’s why there were small, almost unintelligible cracks of exhaustion lining his every movement.

\----------

 _Last class: gym_ , thought Wonpil with disgust lacing his thoughts. _Another opportunity to embarrass myself in front of other people as I flail around aimlessly like a chicken._

He turned to the miserable crowd before him, sensing that same dread hanging over them too. He felt just a splash of ease wash over him (there’s something so strangely comforting about knowing that, when you’re in pain, someone else is suffering along with you. Solidarity, you know?).

That is until he saw Sungjin. When every possibility of “taking it easy” suddenly went swan-diving into the vast void of impossibility. He frantically searched around for Jae, probably looking like a child who’s lost his mum in the supermarket but _screw it_ because he could really use Jae’s protection and support- wow he really was a lost fetus.

Wonpil was experiencing the start of a violent flashback to the time he almost _broke_ Sungjin’s goddamn _head_ . He was just trying to pass the ball, it’s not like he was exactly hoping for it to land directly onto the elder’s head with very questionable force. He shook his head with embarrassment, his hand begging to slap himself for ever thinking it was a good idea to _just participate this once, Wonpil, it’ll be fun!_ It was not.

A loud, repetitive whistle knocked Wonpil out of his thoughts, making everyone look up and into the eyes of the Coach.

Apparently, she had made teams for everyone, marking the start of another unit: basketball. After clarifying that she was not to be held accountable for any concussions and/or internal bleeding (keeping the warning eerily vague), Coach went on to call the list of names and corresponding teams. Those whose names have been called were to get up and stand together in awkward huddles with their teammates.

This process was always the worst, because you didn't want to end up with the tryhards. God, no. And  _definitely_ not with the actual basketball players. They're known to boss people around, speak to them as if everyone else's IQ is in the single digit range-

“Park Sungjin, Park Jaehyung, Kang Younghyun, Kim Wonpil, Yoon Dowoon- you are team 6,” announced the Coach into her bullhorn.

Wonpil’s head snapped up at the sound of his name (much more importantly, _Sungjin’s_ ), looking like a deer in headlights. He mournfully lifted himself from his spot, heading toward Sungjin so that they could all create a line behind him. He sat down quietly, bowing when he saw the other give a little gesture of acknowledgement. He watched as his teammates gathered ‘round. They were _really_ fucked, huh?

Firstly, Sungjin will get an up-close-and-personal view of Wonpil’s floundering athleticism (and probably be the victim of many failed attempts of Trying To: Sport). It’s highly probable that Wonpil will begin to systematically break each of his limbs so that he will be unable to henceforth participate in gym class, while Dowoon is unlikely to say more than five words to anyone- teammate or not. Jae is probably just going to be Jae and make everyone seem even worse, because he’s even good at the things he _doesn’t_ like. On the bright side, Brian could scare the opponent into submission using his perpetual rbf.

“ -so that’s why I think we should be called The Hungry Birds,” Jae said, glancing hopefully around the team with a gleam in his eyes. He suddenly looked at Sungjin and began, “Oh, by the way, happy birthday, man! Won-”

Wonpil turned on Jae with such speed that even Brian was worried that his head would pop off, and waved Jae off frantically.

“ -nnnnnnnnnHAE MANHI MANHI, YAP! Hahaha ha ha, what a great song, right?? May you have _manhi_ _manhi manhi_ birthdays more! HA!”

Sungjin looked at his friend strangely, but smiled nonetheless. “Thanks, Jae,” he said, speaking warily, as if he was expecting Jae to have a mental breakdown or stroke at any moment.

“Alright, so how about we all go around the circle (Brian could be heard saying lowly, “we aren’t in a circle, dumbass”) and say our names and grade? I’m Jaehyung, but most people call me Jae. I’m a senior.”

“Hello, I’m Sungjin, and I’m a senior as well.”

“...Brian. Junior.”

“I can tell you’re going to be the talkative one,” Jae offered lightheartedly, but got a cold glance in return.

“Uh, hi, I’m Wonpil.”

“...”

“...OH and I’m a junior.”

“I’m Dowoon. I’m a sophomore.”

Jae gasped softly: “Aw! You’re our maknae, then!” Extending his hand toward the other’s head, Jae was a few centimeters away from petting Dowoon’s head when Dowoon flinched away. “Work now, play later. I totally get it.”

“You scare me.”

“ _Anyway,_ ” Jae started again, clasping his hands together, “Let’s just try to have some fun, yeah? Also please control yourselves, your excitement is overwhelming,” Jae joked, earning one pitiful smile from Wonpil and, _again_ , cold stares. “Right.”

The bell thankfully rang, ending the awkwardness of the group’s sad, sad interaction. Jae and Wonpil decided to speed off together, wanting to hang out for a bit after school and procrastinate together. But as they were walking out of the gym, a figure came crashing into them, almost intentionally (?).

“Whoa, are you okay-?” Jae asked as the girl lifted her face, looking directly at Jae.

“Hi, Chicken Little.”

“Chicken- Oh my god. _Oh my god_ , Jiwoo! Ahn Jiwoo!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oof part 1 is: COMPLETE  
> Feel free to let me know what you think- concerns, ideas, advice, what you liked, what you didn’t, etc. Hell you can even tell me about your day, I’d love to hear all about it!! Ty for reading this first part of many, I hope it was convincing enough to make you keep going! :”)))))


	2. First impressions last, but do they lie?

Jae swiftly grabbed his friend (Jiwoo, apparently) by the shoulders, shaking her a bit before yanking her into a bear hug. “I can’t believe this! Jiwoo? Jiwoo! Wait, you _are_ Ahn Jiwoo, right? Oh my god did I just violate some random person-”

“Jae Jae Jae Jae, slow down, it’s _me_. You’re fine,” she gave a charming laugh as she continued, “though I do think you’ve just obliterated one of my lungs. Thank God I’ve got two of ‘em, right?”

“My thoughts exactly,” Jae said, inspecting his long lost (but now found!) friend’s face with a rush of familiar fondness.

Jiwoo smiled widely, circling her lean arms around Jae once again and resting her chin on his bony shoulder. “It’s so great to see you again. But you seem like you’ve gotten thinner... Jae, have you been eating well?” The two parted from their hug, and Jae looked at Jiwoo with a sheepish smile on his face, the scene almost too sugary sweet to witness as the two friends finally reconnected-

“Oh, believe me,” Wonpil interrupted, a record scratch almost audible from somewhere in the distance, “he has.”

Jiwoo jumped a bit at the unfamiliar voice, almost as if she hadn’t even noticed that someone else was there (Ah yes... Wonpil, always the star of the show, he was).

“Jiwoo, this is Kim Wonpil,” Jae introduced, directing a _look_ at the younger for the not-so-kind insinuation regarding his eating habits because _fuck you, I’ll eat as much as I want,_  that’s why. _And I’ll rub it in your face when I gain no weight_.

“Oh, Jae’s friend? It’s wonderful to meet you. Ahn Jiwoo,” she introduced herself gracefully, “I’m a senior like Jae. How should I address you…?”

“Ah yes, sorry,” Wonpil bowed quickly, “I’m a junior-”

“I see! Please, call me noona,” she smiled warmly, and Wonpil couldn’t help from feeling a bit comforted by her caring tone.

“Right, of course, Jiwoo-noona.”

“Okay, yes, excuse me,” Jae waved a hand between his two friends, “back here for a second. Thank you.” ( _Drama queen_ , whispered someone). “Jiwoo, how are you even here? It’s been years since I last saw you when we went to school together. That was- what, four years ago?”

“Five, actually,” she paused, letting out an disbelieving sigh. “I know right! Crazy! But my mom recently got transferred to a different branch of the company which operates here, so we had to move since she couldn’t exactly refuse the order when she’s the one sustaining the family,” she explained as she chuckled a bit. “I had no idea that this is the school you were going to until I heard your name being called by that coach woman with the bullhorn.”

“Wait, you were in the gym  with us? Man, I was probably too distracted with rounding up my teammates to notice-”

“Yeah, uh, you didn’t do much ‘rounding up’, so that’s a solid _two_ missed opportunities right there,” Wonpil cut in, laughing at his own stab when he heard Jiwoo’s giggle.

“Okay, again, _highly disrespected_.”

“By the way, noona! I think I saw you at the library earlier today. Second period, right?” Wonpil continued at Jiwoo’s nod, “If you ever need something, that’s where I always sit during second period.”

“How nice of you! Thanks, Wonpil-ah.”

\----------

Another sunrise, another painstakingly long day to endure, roasting like burnt chestnuts in the deepest reaches of teenage hell.

“Move it, dweeb!”

Wonpil watched in horror as a kid roughly half his height was shoved into a locker, a bit astonished at the sheer ability of someone to even fit into that tiny space, albeit very strainingly, without snapping in two. He also felt like crying a little bit because it’s kind of discouraging knowing that homosapiens like that bully still exist. As soon as he saw the _gorilla_ move on to finding his new prey, Wonpil made a quick detour to help the poor kid stuck in the metal rectangle.

As he swung the locker door open, he heard a startled cry that all too closely resembled the mewl of an injured kitten. “Hey,” Wonpil started slowly, helping the smaller out of the metal tube, “can I… do something to help?”

“No, it’s fine. Thanks...” the other whispered, the embarrassment and shame in his voice making Wonpil feel about eleven times worse.

“Does this happen often…?”

“No! No, just sometimes.”

“Well, I know this must be mortifying for you, and I really don’t want to make you feel worse… but if you ever need anything, please ask? My name’s Kim Wonpil, by the way.”

He looked at the other’s downturned face as he said everything, willing his tone to communicate all the sincerity he intended. He looked at the name tag on the kid’s folder and continued:

“Jisoo? You have a bruise on your arm, is that from just now?”

Jisoo looked down at his forearm, watching with dismay as a red blotch speckled with flecks of purple bloomed over his skin. Well, that explains the pain. “I… I guess so.”

“Come on, I’ll walk you to the nurse’s office,” Wonpil smiled brightly.

Jisoo _would_ refuse, but something about this guy’s smile and care made the word “no” so hard to sound out and the shame melt away just a little. “Okay.”

\----------

It took a moment for Sungjin to process the thud which sounded from somewhere in front of him. He looked up after finally peeling his eyes away from the tedious math problem. He came face-to-face with a very tired Wonpil.

“Whoa, what happened to you? You good?” Sungjin asked. Wonpil’s chest was heaving strenuously as if he’d just ran the mile.

“Oh yes, I’m fine, hyung! Just ran into someone in the hallway,” Wonpil responded after taking a quick swig from his water bottle. “Had to rush to get here in time.” (“.,.to see you as quickly as I could,” he wanted to say, but couldn’t for obvious reasons like: What if Sungjin doesn’t like him, or worse, what if he’s straight, meaning that Wonpil has, for the past few months, been throwing himself at a man who couldn’t even _consider_ him as a possibility).

Speaking (or thinking) of which, he should probably try to figure out where Sungjin stands on that damned sexuality spectrum. The prospect of being rejected by anyone was terrifying, but being rejected by a straight man accompanied by the vulnerability of being ridiculed was definitely even worse. He knew it wouldn’t be easy considering the ignorant inclinations of his home country, and the fact that his reputation hung in the balance. Slowly, painstakingly slowly, he could eventually find out though, right? Slow and steady... “Sungjin-hyung…”

The other boy hummed distractedly as he began to turn his attention to Wonpil.

“You know, I was just wondering-”

“Wonpil-ah!”

Confused, Wonpil veered his head around in search of the voice. He spotted a petite girl waving at him from a few meters away. “Oh, noona! Hello,” he greeted.

Tucking a strand of beautifully shining raven black hair behind her ear, Jiwoo responded, “Hi! I was just passing by the library when I remembered that you told me you’re always here on your off time. I hope I’m not interrupting...?”

Subconsciously, maybe Wonpil treasured this time in the library with Sungjin enough to selfishly feel that maybe she was interrupting a little. He stuttered to respond to her inquiry, but luckily someone else already had:

“Oh, not at all,” Sungjin spoke, flashing a subtle but impressive grin, “I’m Sungjin, by the way. Park Sungjin- senior,” he added, extending a hand out toward the girl.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Ahn Jiwoo… senior,” she said, taking his hand.

“Oh shit, really? Excuse my not knowing you- I’m our class president!” he rushed the words out sheepishly as he bowed, wondering how he could have missed someone that notable ( _Alright loverboy, cool it before you say something stupid-_ ) “I don’t know how I could have missed some-” Sungjin’s mouth began on its own accord, resorting to letting out a very loud and frantic cough to brake any further damage.

“Sorry, what was that?”

“Nothing, nothing! Ha…” Sungjin fell over his words hopelessly. This was so unlike him! He could feel the atmosphere getting more and more awkward; so much for a good first introduction. Suddenly, all his charisma had vanished in front of this girl, Sungjin _couldn’t_ let himself become a pesky weirdo to be avoided!

He saw the girl look around a bit absentmindedly, her body lifting from the seat in the slightest as she began to get up to leave. Or she was getting in a position to discreetly fix her wedgie. Either one.

“Jiwoo-noona transferred here just yesterday, hyung, that’s why you’ve never seen her before,” Wonpil interrupted.Ah, Sungjin’s hero.

Relieved and grateful, Sungjin chuckled, “I see! Well, that explains it. How do you know Wonpil?”

“Well, I ran into my old best friend from middle school yesterday, and they happened to be walking together,” she paused, turning to send a small smile toward Wonpil, “so we got introduced. My friend’s name is Park Jaehyung! He’s a senior too, I’m not sure if you know him...?”

“Jae? Do _I_ know _Jae_? I’m pretty sure the whole school knows him, so I’d say I’m familiar, yes.”

She laughed softly, covering her mouth with the palm of her pale hand as she leaned back with amusement. Sungjin blushed _just_ a little, guiltily enjoying the cute curve of Jiwoo’s endearing eye-smile as Wonpil simply looked on, somewhat heedless of the effect Jiwoo could have on other people- heterosexual teenage males in particular.  

They continued to have such kinds of small talk throughout the rest of the period, broken only by small stretches of work which Sungjin would uncharacteristically end, interrupting their individualized activities to spark up conversation again.

By the time the bell rang, the trio was gathering their things from the table.

“It was great spending time here with you both! Thank you for welcoming me into your little corner,” Jiwoo said, flashing a toothy smile.

“Of course, noona! Come by anytime,” Wonpil responded as he heard Sungjin add:

“Yes- anytime!”

\----------

Brian had majorly overslept that day, only sensing the grim pull of school responsibility at midday. He shook off sleep from his eyes to unsurprisingly realize that no one had woke him and he’d already missed about 4 hours worth of classes.

He would have honestly stayed in bed for the rest of the day, even going as far as to call the school’s attendance office and inform, in a high-pitched, nasally voice, that _I’m very sorry but my son, Kang Younghyun, isn’t feeling well today and couldn’t come in to school. Ah yes, of course I’ll let him know to catch up on work he’s missed. Thank you, dear, bye-bye now!_

But, quite truthfully, he didn’t really want to miss the _one_ subject he genuinely cared about: music.

It was no secret to anyone in that class that he had a passion for music, but many didn’t know just how dedicated Brian really was to his passion.

Specifically, no one knew that he was actually in a band. Outside of school, of course. He was part of a small group which composed and performed original music by _yours truly_ , thank you very much.

Their lack of success (in fiscal terms) was a bit discouraging, yes, but it did not deter Brian whatsoever. It was his dream to perform, and he’ll be damned if he let a little rain on his parade retire all hope. Music was everything to him, the only career he could see himself in. He couldn’t imagine doing anything else with his life, so he might as well start young, right?

With this successful avoidance of pessimism in mind, he forced himself out of bed, sliding ungracefully off the bedside, his ass landing on the ground with a loud bump. He sat there for a few seconds, his eyes closed but his mind zooming through several dimensions in that moment. His body slumped to the left, and his head landed limply on the carpet as he let out a defeated whine.

Once Brian actually figured out how to drag himself into his clothes and necessities, he arrived at school with just a couple minutes to spare before the start of the next period.

It only took a few steps into the classroom for Brian to subsciously pick up on something unusual today. Brian frowned, playing a game of “spot the difference” in his head until he finally realized it was the noise. Or, really, lack thereof. There were the usual hushed proceedings of conversation and the sound of a kid opening his bag of potato chips, thinking that his very slowly executed motions were doing something to make the sound less infuriating but were actually doing _jack squat_ ,  _thank you, Jerry_.

But what was miraculously missing was the sound of incessant screaming, whisper-screaming, and whispering of girls drooling over Yoon Dowoon. Dowoon’s seat was currently unoccupied, but even in such an extreme case of absolute emergency and panic when Dowoon would be just a few seconds late to class, the girls would be vigorously talking about him. _S_ _omething’s off_.

As he wondered this, a lean boy with a large black hoodie over his uniform shirt walked into class, his face mostly hidden by his downcast head and pulled hood.

The guy proceeded to surprisingly settle himself into Dowoon’s throne/seat (though seating mostly followed the legacy of principle rather than assignment), earning the curious, and outraged, looks of Dowoon’s Fanclub.

“Listen here, _bozo_ ,” someone piped up from the gathered group of girls at the front of the class, “can you sit elsewhere? You just took Dowoon’s seat and,” she paused, laughing mockingly, “you do _not_ deserve that placement, sweetie.” Well, she didn’t need much provocation. Damn.

But no fight ensued, no one heard a male voice lash out with an insult of his own. The figure simply kept his head down, even going as far as starting to plug in his earbuds.

The girls looked at each other with disbelief, a murderous look flashing through the eyes of some while a look of worry passed through others’.

The same girl scoffed incredulously. “ _Um_ , hello?! Didn’t you hear me?"

No response. This wasn’t going to end well, huh?

“Alright, that’s it,” she huffed out, leaving behind her seat in favor of charging toward Dowoon’s desk. _Oh hell,_  Brian thought with annoyance, hoping that the bell could finally ring before a fucking _catfight_ broke loose.

But still, the girl kept going, unfazed by the various ancient curses Brian was trying to pass onto her. “Who-” she began, pulling back the dark hood to reveal a very familiar set of black locks. _Too_ familiar.

Everyone was stunned into silence, even _Jae_ , who had been documenting the whole thing on snapchat and narrating it in a quiet voice with a horrendous Australian accent, pretending to be the wildlife reporter of some series on Animal Planet.

“Oh my- _Dowoon oppa_?” the girl squeaked out in a voice about 2 octaves higher than her vicious tone just seconds earlier. “Oppa, why didn’t you say something! I-I-I’m so, so sorry!!” She made a grab at his hands, but _Dowoon oppa_ flinched away almost as soon as she moved her arms, pulling his hood back over his head, not even chancing a glance at the girl’s mortified expression. _That takes some serious self control_ , Brian laughed in his head. _I would have made a meme of her face._

“Dowoon-ah, we’re so sorry! We didn’t know, w-we’ll make it up to you!” another girl yelled desperately from the crowd behind. The girl at the front looked like she was about to cry; she most likely did after running out of the room.

Hushed conversation only resumed after about a minute of astonished silence when the bell rang, switching on people’s brains once more.

“And that concludes this week’s episode of The Lion and its Huntress: A Case of Mistaken Identity. Stay tuned for more spicy juiciness. ‘Til next time, this has been Jae, your favorite mate.”

\----------

The days went by rather uneventfully after that, only finding comic relief in the stiff and clueless interactions between our newlywed quintet.

“You said “left”!”

“ _My_ left, not yours!”

“It’s the same fucking left, Jaehyung!”

“Don’t use my full name! I told you it stresses me out!”

Dowoon darted his eyes from one screaming figure to the other, following along as the two continued to argue like 5 year olds. He eventually watched as the duo deflated when they heard the snippets of a conversation going on nearby.

“Yo, have you heard about the party that senior noona is having at her place tonight? I wasn’t gonna go, but what the hell, right? It’s Friday,” they registered someone slur out from a few meters away. He was talking to his friend while they pretended to follow along in the drills but were actually just passing the basketball to each other- as in, _handing_ each other the ball over and over. That’s one way to do it... I guess?

Both Jae and Sungjin perked up at their conversation. “I was thinking about going to that, how ‘bout you?” Sungjin inquired, forgetting all about the heated debate he was just in regarding the universality of common directions.

“ _Duh,_ ” Jae snorted, as if his answer was the most obvious thing in the world. “ _Food_ , dude. Free junk food. F-R-E-E. So yeah, you bet your shiny hair I’m gonna be there. Actually that reminds me, what shampoo-”

“It’s all in the finger-combing.”

“Knew it.”

“So, you’re going to a party?” Wonpil jumped in, playing with his fingers nervously.

“Yeah! A friend of ours is throwing it and I guess we were both invited,” Sungjin explained.

“Oh…”

“Hey,” Sungjin suddenly yelped, “you guys should all come to the party, too!”

“Maneuvering my way through clusterfucks of wasted, horny teens? During my _free time_? I think I’ll pass, thanks,” Brian spoke up with oh-so-charming disinterest.

“But food,” Jae whispered.

“Look, I know you all might not want to go, but actually it’s a chance for us to get to know each other a little better,” Sunjin responded. “We kinda barely know each other. You know, teamwork is about trust! This year is _my_ last chance to participate in the basketball event in the Spring sport festival, because every past year something would fuck up my chances. And this year I wanna finally win to compete in that  _bitchass f_ _estival-”_

He took a deep breath through his nostrils, closing his eyes in an attempt to ward off any exasperation. “I like you guys,” (Wonpil gave a little gasp at that, poor thing), “and it could totally be fun if you give it a chance, hmm?”

He looked at his teammates with little actual hope in the face of their disinterest and/or indifference.

But little did Sungjin know that, by some generous force of the Great Beyond, fate had smiled down upon him. The boys had come to a unanimous decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehehehe gotta have that buildup to the obligatory high school party scene :P


	3. Surprised but not disappointed

Dowoon stuffed his frostbitten hands into his pockets as far as they could go. He was jumping in place to warm his shivering body. This was it. He was going to freeze to death here, on the side of the road like a rat.

A car zipped by, shattering the icicles hanging off Dowoon’s body by the sheer force of its momentum. He felt the brief yet sweet caress of warm air as the car went by. _Heater_.

“Come back,” Dowoon begged with a feeble hand outstretched, but the car lights were getting smaller and smaller in the dark while Dowoon’s chances of permanent nerve damage were getting bigger and bigger.

As if by miracle, Dowoon spotted a large Romanesque house when he rounded a corner. _Is this a mirage_ , Dowoon thought hesitantly, marvelling at the grandeur of the mansion ahead. But his ears received a deafening sort of mass-commotion, excited hooting, and godawful trap music.  _T_ _hat’s real… definitely real_.

He picked up his pace as the wind began to blow more roughly. And with that, Dowoon’s runny nose and pink ears had effectively become numb.

He finally made it to the house at the dead-end after some agonizing minutes, his face having just lost all ability to make any expression other than the bland one currently gracing his handsome features. Not that he felt particularly inclined to _make_ any other face.. Still a little concerning.

It was about 11 at night, but people were still pulling up to the incredibly fancy roundabout at the front of the mansion. The splendor of the architecture was obvious, but there was something kind of gaudy about the decorations- think Gatsby mansion but… bougier?

Dowoon tried to make as little eye contact with people as possible, since making eye contact always somehow gave people the impression that Dowoon was just _desperately_ lusting after the attention of every passerby of comparable age range.

As he walked through the mansion’s wood-glass hybrid doors, he felt the long-awaited embrace of heat around his body. He fleetingly wondered whether it was the heating system or the intense radiation of body heat from all the, well, _bodies_. Dowoon spent a few minutes walking around aimlessly, exploring the beauty of the house and seeing many faces that he did not recognize. _Must be students from other schools, then_.

He made a grab at the staircase railing to go upstairs, but felt a feather-light touch on his shoulder, twisting him around to face a girl obviously older than him- though, at this party, who wasn’t? She grinned at him with a slight quirk of her eyebrow. She practically forced a plastic cup of pale pink liquid into his hand, Dowoon taking it quickly out of surprise and instinct.

“Hi,” she drawled out slowly, more because of intended effect than drunkenness, and came a little too close to Dowoon. He looked down at her slightly shorter height, a bit startled at first by her flirting ( _t_ _his is flirting, right?_ ).

It didn’t take long for him to regain his composure. He settled on a cold glance; Dowoon took a step back, and looked past shoulder boredly. He made an effort to step past her, but she moved right along with him. And she just kept coming closer. _Fuck, come on_.

Dowoon’s foot hit the first step on the stairs, and he wasn’t about to start running up the stairs like some kid. Her hand leaned against the railing, quite literally planting a roadblock in Dowoon’s escape.

“What’s your name, handsome?” she asked in a sultry tone.

Tiredly, Dowoon was about to tell her to piss off when a brunette junior stepped in, chuckling melodiously.

Wonpil looked at the girl and said in a ‘wow, fancy seeing you here!’ voice, “Hey, I think, uh...Tiffany’s looking for you!” The statement, meant to sound like an exclamation, bordered on the edge of a question.

“Huh? Wait, Tiffany? Oh, thanks,” she started, confused and understanding all at once. She took a few steps back as she began to take her leave.

“Jesus- okay, bye bye,” Wonpil said as he watched the girl throw a saccharine wink at Dowoon. Wonpil turned his attention to the younger as the girl disappeared into the crowd, and greeted the other with a smile.

“I could have handled it.”

“I know, but you were also probably about to give that girl the coldest rejection she’s ever received and I’d rather have one less crying, reckless drunk here tonight.”

Dowoon looked tired. “Why? This isn’t your house, is it?”

“Of course not, but she could get hurt. And so could you if she got ahold of you,” Wonpil explained with humor, and a little worry, evident in his facial expression.

He spared a once-over of Dowoon’s body and was, for a second, taken aback. Wow, those monotonous uniforms really didn’t do anyone any favors, but Dowoon, Wonpil guiltily admitted, looked stunning in his own clothes.

Okay, time to look away now. _Oof_.

But what really caught Wonpil’s attention was the red solo cup that Dowoon was raising to his lips. “No!” he yelled, swiftly grabbing the cup from the younger’s loose grip and causing the liquid to slosh around. Pink liquid spilled over, dripping down Wonpil’s hand slowly. “That’s heavily spiked and I can’t follow you around all night to take care of drunk you,” he chastised as he flicked his wrist around, hoping most of the liquid would run off.

“Oh,” Dowoon said, with a miniscule speck of shyness in his voice. “Did you know her?”

“Hmm?”

“The girl… from before…”

“Oh! No, I didn’t. Just stepped in.”

“So… Tiffany?” Dowoon urged, unsure of how any of this was meant to add up.

“Yeah I just made that up,” Wonpil admitted, only continuing when he saw the younger’s look of confusion. “I’m, like, 60% sure there’s someone named Tiffany here, so I threw it out there. It worked, didn’t it?”

Dowoon was at a loss for words. It was truly a wonder that a plan that dumb and chaotic didn’t flounder.

“Come on, let’s go find the others.”

\----------

“Pardon me, Sungjin sir, do you have some time to talk about our lord and savior, Cheese-us Christ?”

“I’m- excuse me?”

“It’s my new sales pitch.”

“Jae, you quit working at the pizza place, like, 3 months ago. Let it go.”

“They don’t know what they lost. We would have sold _double_ the pizzas if they’d just listened to me. I mean, irresistible pitch, right?”

“For your clone, maybe,” Sungjin said absentmindedly, glancing around for what seemed like the twentieth time, looking for Wonpil or anyone else recognizable from the team. “Do you think they’re not coming?”

“Well, Wonpilie’s probably too soft for you to not come,” Jae began, deep in thought.

“What did you say?” Sungjin offered passively, catching only fragments of Jae’s phrases.

“-and Brian is probably somewhere being a philosophical angst drunk, while Dowoon is too busy being chased to even consider coming. Poor kid.”

“Yes, how _terrible_ it must be to receive all that attention,” Sungjin scoffed.

“Don’t be  _so_ single and bitter, Sungjin. You’re just jealous,” Jae said in a cute, sing-song voice (“Shut up, Jae”).

“Sungjin-hyung!!”

Sungjin followed the sudden call of his name to a boy waving at him like an excited puppy. _Awwww, so cute_.

“Wonpil-ah, Dowoon-ah! Hello,” Sungjin spoke with a smile. He came closer to the pair when he realized that the deafening, bass-boosted music would make it difficult to hear anything at all otherwise.

“Good evening, kiddies!” Jae greeted the newcomers with an affectionate pat of their heads (“Don’t-” Dowoon began, all too late). “Glad you could make it.”

“Yeah, thanks for coming,” Sungjin added.

“No problem, hyung! We couldn’t miss it since you asked,” Wonpil assured quickly, blushing at his own words.

“Told you,” Jae announced casually to Sungjin, who looked lost. “By the way, have either of you seen Brian?”

In unspoken unison, Dowoon and Wonpil coolly pointed to a figure at the very back of the room confronted by a small group of smitten, giggling girls.

Brian!

...Brian?

One of the girls even grazed her hand over his bicep and left it there for _just_ a few seconds too long. Girls hitting on Brian? They’re definitely from another school to be naive enough to do that. Oh boy.

The rest of the team watched on. Was Brian… _laughing?_ Smiling? He looked one girl up and down so slowly that someone who didn’t know him would’ve thought he was  _f_ _lirting_. The girl obviously perked up hopefully as he leaned in very close, pushing aside a dyed blonde tuft of her hair and placing his lips at her ear, whispering something to her (Jae whistled, almost a bit enchanted himself).

But they monitored, disappointed but not surprised, as the girl stepped back in offended horror, keeping her eyes on Brian, who seemed completely unfazed. He concluded this baffling exchange with a bow to the rest of the girls.

The concentration in the boys’ gaze was bound to be noticed by Brian, with whom they suddenly made eye contact. He sighed before walking over, giving a slight, tepid nod as greeting.

“Not to be a nosy bitch but what did you say to that girl?” Jae asked with curiosity dripping from his tongue.

Brian shrugged, considering his answer. “The truth. I’m gay.”

Wonpil spluttered at that while Sungjin cleared his throat awkwardly. Dowoon just tilted his head to the side like a pup.

“Shit,” Jae exclaimed, but sounded an acknowledging hum. “That’s cool,” he just said.

Brian just barely raised his eyebrows, maybe a little surprised and -though he wouldn’t admit it- grateful for the response. Brian didn’t exactly _flaunt_ his sexuality, but he also didn’t hold back from expressing it when the situation provoked his inexplicable desire to, let’s say… open people’s minds. _I’m not going to fucking pretend- that’s so 12 year old me._

Wonpil looked at Brian and did nothing to contain the rush of admiration that bubbled deep in his chest; seeing someone so willing to be open with himself was so refreshing, bolstering for someone like Wonpil who could relate to being different. Solidarity in adversity, perhaps? Comfort wasn’t a word he’d often use when it came to Brian, but it seemed perfect for the way the other boy made Wonpil feel in that moment.

“Right… well, we’re all here, so how about-” Sungjin paused, roughly shoved by a clumsily dancing boy behind him. He began again, “...How about we find a quieter and less painful place to hang out?”

After a more-or-less agreement among themselves, they began to head out to one of the furnished corners of the back-porch. Much quieter. They supposed the open, fresh air seemed to deter most of the partiers.

As they reached the two couches, Sungjin took a seat first at the smaller of the two, placing his arm along the hard back of the couch. Wonpil, seeing this, rushed to take the remaining seat beside his hyung, but was regretfully pulled onto the other couch by Jae, who smiled at him slyly. _Bitch!_

\----------

“I don’t think you understand the meaning of mutual interaction.”

Dowoon shrugged at the comment.

“Exactly,” Jae responded to the gesture. “But that’s okay because we don’t need words to communicate,” he said, “all we need is our eyes.” Jae wiggled his eyebrows comically.

“What the fuck are you,” Brian deadpanned, looking on at the scene in front of him.

“Your greatest fantasy,” Jae retorted confidently.

“I do dream of stabbing you.”

“Sticks and stones, my friend…”

The senior’s head came to rest on Dowoon’s shoulder in defiance. Before Dowoon could snap Jae’s neck, they heard someone yell loudly, “POLICE!!” That certainly seemed to do the trick to snap everyone out of their drunk sluggishness. The whole crowd scattered like mice, jumping over each other, through windows, doors- you name it.

“Time to skedaddle, kids!” Jae announced to the group, hopping up to his feet and clapping a few times to get everyone up.

“We’re not doing anything wrong…” Dowoon said meekly.

“ _Y_ _ou_ know that, and _I_ know that, but the police doesn’t. And they won’t care,” Sungjin quickly added as he gently ushered the younger ones out of their seats and toward back road behind the house.

“Right- Quickly now! See you all on Monday!” Jae yelled while he ran backwards, waving at his friends with glee. He seemed much too content with leaving everyone else behind.

“He looks like he’s enjoying this way too much,” Wonpil said with some concern. “Be safe, hyung!”

“Oh boy, let’s go,” Sungjin sighed as he gathered his three teammates and ran out through the garden, assuming a leading position at the back of the group. No one gets left behind on Sungjin’s watch.

They kept running for a few minutes, finally coming to a large street intersection and realizing that they’ve put more than enough distance between themselves and the mansion. But with the great distance came great fatigue, proven by Wonpil’s labored breathing and Brian’s deep exhales. Dowoon and Sungjin seemed unaffected by the running. Damn their athleticism and fit bodies.

Sungjin noticed Wonpil, bent over like a dying weed. “Hey, you okay?” he asked carefully, placing a hand at the other’s nape and rubbing his thumb over it in a soothing motion.

“Yeah, just fine-” Wonpil began embarrassedly, but was betrayed by the cough that came out of him. Sungjin chuckled as he looked over at Brian, checking on him to make sure he was feeling well enough to get home safely. The gesture was met with a passive dismissal.

“Do you all know your way back home?”

The inquiry was met with three affirmations. The intersection was a popular one, so Sungjin didn’t doubt their answers. They all began to part from each other, saying their (however reluctant and awkward) goodbyes.

Walking off, Brian tsk-ed. “This is why I never go to parties.”

\----------

Jae hastily pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose for what seemed like the millionth time as his general focus remained fixed on the open textbook he was holding in his hands while walking through the hallway (to his class). He was honestly doing his best to commit it all to memory; no one can say he that didn’t try, right?

Jae wasn’t genuinely worried for his A-grade since it could probably sustain multiple failing quiz grades this semester; he just wanted a good grade for the sake of getting a good grade. These were thoughts not everyone can afford to have, but Jae’s twisted genius had always gotten him the kinds of scores people usually receive after several hours of studying. Jae sometimes tried to study regardless, simply to feel like he was doing legitimate work, but his mind was so easily distracted that it would be a losing battle each time. And yes, studying might _slip_ his thoughts altogether here and there, but you get the point.

There were just so many things to do, how could he possibly remain focused on just one for more than an hour while seated in the same position?! That laser-concentration is reserved for only the most important of tasks- like eating, playing, and music.

As his glasses slid down his small nose, Jae again lifted a frustrated hand from under the heavy textbook to push them back, causing his lone hand to suddenly lose balance of the book.

It wobbled uncontrollably, and before Jae could bring back his hand to rebalance it, someone else grabbed at the book’s hard shell to stabilize it.

“Wha- Jiwoo! Thanks~” Jae giggled sheepishly.

“You looked like you needed a hand. Literally,” she joked, flashing her eye-smile while she laughed. “Have you got a test soon?”

“Yeah, in like…” Jae paused looking at his wrist watch, “two minutes?”

Jiwoo scoffed. She stopped laughing and raised her eyebrows when she realized something. “Oh. You’re serious.”

“Eh, I’ll be fine. I think.”

For some reason, Jiwoo got a rush of memories as Jae said this, remembering with fond nostalgia of those years ago when he had, at the blooming age of twelve, gotten stuck in the kiddie swing. Which was strange, since he was always a lean kid.

Nevertheless, she remembered when he kept insisting to the firemen that he was fine and was, in fact, _definitely not stuck_. Long story short, two hunky men had to forcibly pull him out by holding him at his armpits, a choice at which he kept laughing uncontrollably because he’s ticklish.

In retrospect, it actually probably looked like Jae was a deranged child being dragged off to a psychiatric ward. Jiwoo could hardly blame the horrified woman and her son as they stared from afar.  They probably thought they were going to have a nice picnic in the park, but instead got front row seats to the colossal mess that was, and always will be, Park Jaehyung.

Jae turned to stare at Jiwoo, terrified as she began to laugh hysterically, seemingly at nothing. She was holding her stomach desperately, and it took a few seconds for her to calm down enough to speak properly. Jae’s book lay forgotten in his hands while he waited for an explanation for his friend’s outburst.

“I was just reminiscing. You know, old times,” she started vaguely, letting her laughter ring out when she continued, “...like when you got stuck in the swing.”

Jae froze with a lost look in his eyes before whispering, petrified, “I thought that was a dream. That actually happened?”

Jiwoo was cackling even louder now. “You couldn’t escape that memory even if you tried, Jaehyungie! I won’t let you!!”

They kept laughing distractedly, not realizing their clumsiness until Jiwoo’s shoulder crashed into a brooding, stony-faced boy. Of course. Of course it would be Brian.

At impact, Brian rigidly turned around to face his offender with a freezing cold glance, thoroughly unmoved by her apology.

“Sorry,” Jiwoo offered, stunned by the accident. And Brian.

Brian shifted his icy stare from Jiwoo to Jae, making the minimal effort of raising his eyebrows at him in acknowledgement. Then, looking as offended as ever, Brian turned back on his path to walk away with his hands resting loosely in his pockets.

The other girls in the hallway, well aware of Brian’s attitude, backed away from him to form a human Red Sea, Brian starring in the scene as Moses. In the meantime, Jiwoo kept her gaze on him while he strolled away, tearing herself away only after some seconds.

“...Who was that?”

“Real charmer, right? That’s a junior, Kang Brian. Don’t worry, I can tell he’s a softie under that tough exterior. They always are,” Jae joked and placed his arm around Jiwoo, pulling her along with him down the hallway.

Jiwoo absently let herself be guided by Jae; a lot was going through her head at the moment.

Brian, wow. He was a lot to take in. True, they didn’t just meet under the most fortuitous of circumstances, but that sure didn’t stop the fluttery feeling from nesting in her gut. She turned to Jae and briefly saw him smile at her, oblivious, when they made eye contact. She comfortably sank back into her thoughts and felt a smile creeping its way onto her own face, though she couldn’t say that it was completely because of the friend next to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi hi!! classes for me are WHACK at the moment and i have 3 exams this week but this story is my child and dammit i'm gonna raise it well and watch it grow into a productive member of the fanfic soCIETY also i lub u guys so :")


	4. Fateful miscalculations

The sky was more grey than blue today, blowing a gloomy sort of atmosphere over that Wednesday morning. There were so many clouds that it was impossible to tell where one ended and another began, while humidity practically licked at the skin. 

The general morning aura seemed uncomfortably similar to sitting in a steamy sauna with winter clothes on. That, but completely lacking the relaxing feeling you’d get in a real sauna. 

Walking to school in this weather often made Jae consider hitching a ride, possibly risking getting kidnapped. 

Why. Why, oh why did his car have to break down today?

Still, he made it onto the school’s cobblestone pathway, cheating ride or not. He was acutely aware of the small beads of sweat gathering at his hairline.

_ I could take off my jacket _ , Jae thought, but decided against it. Without his jacket, he’d just be a basic bitch in basic uniform _.  _

Keep the jacket it is. 

A faint sprinkling of giggles and whispers reached his ears from behind. Before he could force himself to turn his head to look, a pale frame walked past him, exuding his usual aura of coolness. (How did this keep happening to him?)

Dowoon, who wore his uniform shirt  _ open _ (no, he wasn’t shirtless underneath, much to the dismay of onlookers) with a hooded shirt under it, looked effortlessly chic as he passed Jae. The little bastard wouldn’t spare a single glance at the senior nor the girls. 

The girls, his seemingly constant companions, who chased after him like puppies following a meal. Those girls were perhaps more shameless than even  _ Jae _ . And that was saying something. 

_ How exactly does he look cool now? In  _ this _ weather,  _ this  _ economy. _ As he pondered this, he saw Dowoon trip just a few meters down the path, stumbling over himself a tiny bit endearingly before regaining his balance.  _ Or not _ , Jae reconsidered. 

For his second surprise of the morning, Jae’s shoulder was booped by Jiwoo, who quickly fell into step with him. Her smile already lit up the graying mood. 

Her attention was drawn to the worksheets in Jae’s hands. “Whoa, what the hell are all these at 7 AM?”

“Tragic, I know. But I’m just proofreading, the hard part of the work is over,” he winked at her.

It was easy for Jae to think less and less of his work after Jiwoo’s arrival, so they chatted all the way to the entrance of the school. At that point, Jae had to part ways from the neighborhood celeb and his fangirls ahead, as well as Jiwoo. They traded a fistbump before parting, though. 

Jae took a right turn down the staircase, which led him to the senior locker hallway. 

Thankfully, his torturously thick jacket came in handy, shielding him from the boreal cold of the hallways; the school heating system really only had two settings: Pits of Hell, or North Pole Chill. Jae scrunched his nose and sniffled. He helplessly shoved his hands deeper into his pockets. 

“Sungjin!” Jae screeched from far away when he knowingly spotted his friend’s favorite pair of sneakers peeking from under an open locker door. He was about to run up to him when the person poked his head out from behind the locker, startled by the loud sound. 

_ That- That is not Sungjin. Shit _ . “Sorry, Jerry!”

The person,  _ Jerry _ , smiled awkwardly before taking a potato chip from his bag (where did that even come from??) and eating it slowly, retreating behind the locker. 

Thankfully, this particular hallway was almost never crowded (you know, senioritis), and Jae’s unabashed personality didn’t suffer too much. But it still hurt when the  _ real _ Sungjin walked up behind him and came close to his ear. “You’re an idiot.”

Wow, where was  _ he _ ten seconds ago?

“Ah!” Jae yelped, turning around to face the culprit. “Well well, look who got here too little too late, as JoJo would say.” 

“What the hell is a JoJo.”

“Fuck you, she is an  _ icon _ of American pop. Trust me on this. That’s a shrine for a different time, though. I wanted to ask you about something! My friend just recently moved here-”

“Oh, Ahn Jiwoo, right? We’ve met.” 

“Perfect! So could you use that presidential influence of yours to make sure that she’s included in the yearbook? She moved here at an odd time and she has a lot to catch up on. I wouldn’t want her to miss out on anything these last few months. I don’t know if everything’s been properly arranged…” Jae’s explanatory chatter was cut off by Sungjin.

“Of course, I’ll check in with the staff to make sure she’s all settled in,” he assured confidently. “I have access to these things.”

Sungjin thought for a second.

“I might need her school ID so that I can check around more easily. It’s likely that her number is in the system since she is a student, but her info might not be updated or accurate. Would you happen to have it?” 

“Uh… is that the number at the top corner of our schedule sheet? ‘Cause I have a picture of her schedule…” Jae took out his phone to dig through his camera roll, finally finding the snap he was looking for. “I’m  _ way _ too lazy to crop it so I’ll just send the whole shebang,” he said without looking up, still focused on the phone screen. 

“Uh, yeah, okay,” Sungjin said a little wide-eyed and flustered because did he just get his crush’s schedule without even asking?  _ Wow, the sky is clear and my crops are flourishing, what is this luck _ ?

Any further conversation was halted by the sound of the bell, calling students to class. As they departed from each other, Sungjin heard the familiar  _ ding _ of his phone’s message alert.

\----------

Wonpil entered the library in a daze, his left eye twitching. His mind felt like it was overheating while it worked to process what he just “learned” in math class. 

Walking mechanically, he made it over to his usual table. He snapped out of his trance only to notice that Sungjin wasn’t in his seat. 

Alarms started blaring in Wonpil's head. _  WAIT IS THIS THE RIGHT PERIOD _ , his head screamed. But, upon checking the time, he realized that he was indeed in the right place at the right time.  _ Then where...? _

Sungjin was practically always found in this seat before Wonpil’s arrival, so this was an anomaly, for sure. Something about having his last class really close by?

After circling the table, Wonpil took note of the bag thrown haphazardly below the chair across from his own seat.  _ Sungjin-hyung’s bag _ . 

Wonpil looked around, but spotted his hyung’s undeniable back when he walked further away from their cozy corner, venturing more into the library’s computer lab. Which, by the way, was not  _ really _ a proper lab- just a glorified square of space with outdated computers. 

Wonpil came up beside Sungjin, so as to not scare him, and sat in the unoccupied seat on his right. After a few seconds of Sungjin failing to distract his own attention from his task long enough to take notice of the newcomer, Wonpil spoke. 

“Hyung,” he said softly and in a somewhat questioning tone, “hello.”

At that, Sungjin hummed in question and later smiled. “Oh, Wonpilie! I’ll be at our table in a few minutes, I’m just taking care of something for a student- Jiwoo, actually!”

Wonpil felt himself practically  _ jerk _ at Sungjin’s utterance of “ _ our table _ ”, but maintained his composure barely enough to say, “Okay hyung, I’ll be at  _ our table _ then.” 

Wonpil bit his bottom lip shyly as he bowed, beginning to make his return to the table. 

_ Our _ table.  _ O-u-r _ table.  _ Our table our table our table our table our table o _ -

_ Did he say he was helping Jiwoo-noona _ ? Wonpil backtracked, now that his mind was finally regaining consciousness to process what Sungjin actually said after- well, you probably know by now. 

He mulled over the new information for a few seconds before plopping down in his chair and deflating with defeat.  _ Hyung is soooooo nice! He’s so caring and he’s even helping noona. It’s so unfair, he’s so cool. _

With nothing else to do, Wonpil took out his math notes and prayed to anyone that was listening for the strength to keep going. 

True to his word, Sungjin made his way back to the routine area of study after about 7 minutes and 32 seconds, not that anyone was keeping track. 

Wonpil was drawn away from his work. He’s pretty sure he has even more questions now than before. And although staring at Sungjin’s flexing forearms  _ seemed _ like the better option here, he knew that he had to first address the mental clog in his head. 

So as Sungjin was crouched down by the tableside, tying his shoelaces, Wonpil decided to clear his throat. “Hyung,” he began embarrassedly, “I’m sorry to bother you but I’m having trouble with some math concepts? Like, what the hell are matrices? And just  _ why _ ? I don’t want to distract you if you have things to do-”

“Wonpil-ah, it’s fine,” Sungjin promised as he brushed through his hair with his hand. “I’ll try to help as much as I can.” 

Sungjin finished off his second shoelace bow, and was handed Wonpil’s monstrously heavy (but surprisingly neat) binder. He stared at the pages for a while to refresh his memory. 

As a student, Sungjin put a lot of effort and pride into his work, and got a great payoff for his troubles. He received stellar grades and held leadership positions in various clubs and honor societies. All while being president of his class. 

Honestly, it was so stressful and time-consuming. But Sungjin wanted to believe that his work was making an impact, a small dent, and he genuinely enjoyed seeing the products of his effort thrive. 

Sungjin quickly skimmed the questions so he and Wonpil could go through the worksheet together, applying the concepts independently by the end of the period. 

All the while Wonpil watched Sungjin with expectant eyes and a worried expression; Sungjin didn’t delay his reassurance: “Okay, I think I can help!” Sungjin got up from his seat, laying out the work in front of its owner when he reached Wonpil’s side. Sungjin stood next to the younger, slightly hunched over and gripping the back of Wonpil’s chair for support while using his free-hand to point out things on the worksheet. The position was… more intimate than usual. Or,  _ ever _ . What a completely coincidental and unplanned circumstance. 

The consequence was Wonpil reddening beyond belief as he registered Sungjin’s closeness. Now, they weren’t touching at all, but the feeling of intimacy that Wonpil felt by the elder’s careful instruction was all that mattered. He felt cared for.

It took a few seconds for Wonpil to realize that he wasn’t paying attention to what Sungjin was saying.  _ Oh god, how long has he been talking? _

He had instead been tracing with his eyes the fine tendons and protruding veins in the senior’s hands. Wonpil tried rolling his head around to loosen himself up, but all that did was bump his head onto Sungjin’s chest. 

Wonpil froze. Now his head was basically resting against Sungjin’s chest. That broad chest.

Well, fuck.

Wonpil jerked his head away from the warm firmness of Sungjin’s chest.  _ Yeah, that totally LOOSENED ME UP _ . 

Sungjin’s chuckle only served to make Wonpil’s sheepish apologies all the more erratic, but the rest of the lesson went by smoothly. Miraculously.

Sungjin asked for -maybe- the twentieth time if he had been helpful at all, and Wonpil answered the same way he had the past nineteen times:  _ Of course, hyung! _

But here’s the thing:

Sungjin actually  _ was  _ helpful, this wasn’t just some sort of “get a free pass because I like you” assurance. Wonpil grasped most of his previously unanswered questions, and could probably bullshit his way through any of the few parts which still baffled him. 

He’d call this a win! For various reasons that he will absolutely not write about in his diary tonight.

Wonpil thence walked along, more determined than ever- determined to get the greatest score on his math test and show his hyung just how grateful and capable of a  mate friend he was.

\----------

It was fourth period, about half way through the school day, and Jae unfortunately had a test. However, it was the same test he was scrambling to study for in the hallway a few days ago. 

Let him explain. 

So his history exam was technically supposed to be a couple days ago. His teacher turned out to be absent, which postponed the test until the next day, when it was presumed that he would be back. 

That assumption turned out to be false, since the teacher called the school’s principal only a few hours later, informing her that he was very ill and would be unable to come into school for a number of the upcoming days. 

On any other occasion, a simple, multipurpose substitute would have been just fine as a replacement, but this particular test was more interactive than most. An oral exam. 

Each student would go, one by one, outside class with the teacher, and record a conversation with the instructor about a randomly chosen prompt in history. The possible topics were endless, but the teacher would have no script for himself/herself, since preexisting knowledge of the curriculum was assumed to be more than enough for the instructor to evaluate student responses. 

Thus, an experienced history teacher was needed for the performance of the exam. 

For better or worse, the absence and fateful unavailability of any other history teachers meant the students had to simply wait until either: 

  1. their regular teacher recovered and returned to school;


  1. an adequately knowledgeable substitute was identified to fill in. And according to Jae’s many sources around school, the latter of the two options had just been fulfilled. His exam was to commence as planned today.



Usually, Jae liked to volunteer to go first. 

He’d get it over with quickly, then fool around in class until everyone had completed the test. He’d carelessly enjoy the anguish of the try-hards who would surely be crying in the corner because of their  _ so incredibly inadequate _ score of 96. 

This time was no different. He walked into his classroom and wrote his name on the board under the drawn box labelled “Volunteers”. Someone had vaguely crossed out the title though, writing “sacrificial lambs” above it. 

Just like the minutes before every other test, the students seemed to be even more rowdy than usual. They were concentrated in small huddles to discuss topics, questions. They were mostly screaming at each other about what they thought was the better answer to their own questions. 

Upon his arrival, people would flock to Jae and ask frantically for confirmation on their inquiries, which he always tried to answer as accurately as possible, which would confuse them even more.

No matter; the bell rang. 

Everyone’s dreaded attention was called to the unfamiliar figure at the front of the class: a haggish woman who looked older than the whole building she was standing in. 

An assortment of low groans broke out among the students. Older teachers were always more picky and precise. 

“Everyone sit down,” she said in a commanding, Dolores Umbridge-esque voice, though no one was out of their seat. “I am Mrs. Khan, your substitute teacher, and I’ll be conducting your oral exam today.” 

She pulled the attendance sheet from her folder and slammed it onto a student’s desk, commanding him to take care of it. 

She whipped around to spot the only brave name written on the board, and yelled, “Park Jaehyung! Come with me. Everyone else: silence!” It honestly began to seem like the earlier fictional comparison was not far off at all. 

Jae got up, waving in regal fashion to his admiring subjects as he followed the teacher into the hall. 

It looked like she’d begun, already speaking into the small recording device. “Park Jaehyung, prompt number 177.” She faced Jae, and began, “‘You are a student in high school, and your friend is having trouble recalling a history lesson about the fall of the World Trade Center. You try to help her by explaining the event and its consequences. Be thorough in your response and react accordingly to questions in the conversation. Five exchanges are necessary. Begin.’” 

_ What the frick frack diddily dack patty wack snick snack crack pack slack mack quarterback crackerjack biofeedback backtrack thumbtack sidetrack tic-tac slapback nickelback did she just say? World Trade Center?? As in,  _ New York’s _ World Trade Center?! Well fuck me, that’s not even Korean history! We spent two days on the Modern U.S unit this is such bs.  _

_ Okay okay okay you watched that documentary and your mom- _

“Mr. Park!” she screeched, catapulting Jae out of his frenzy. “We’re starting NOW.”

“Right, of course,” he started hesitantly, but felt himself grow more confident as more information rapidly flooded his mind.  

And so, Mrs. Khan began. “Hello friend (???), I’ve been having trouble remembering the details of the lesson we did on the fall of the Twin Towers. Where did it even happen?”

“Hmm, the Twin Towers were located in New York, in the United States, and were two of seven buildings of Manhattan’s original World Trade Center, completed in 1973 and becoming the world’s tallest buildings at the time.”

Mrs. Khan, even as a teacher, seemed overwhelmed by the information. She stuttered just a bit, but continued, “And how did they fall?”

“On September 11, 2001, two hijacked aircrafts dove into the towers, marking the date as a massive terrorist attack connected to Al-Qaeda. The event led to the death of over 2,500 people and the injury of many more as the towers eventually crumbled and fell. The surrounding structural damage took 8 months to clean up. Unfortunately, that was only the start of the attacks’ lasting impact on the United States.”

At this point, the teacher was in disbelief as Jae recited the history of the event in almost impossible detail, considering that this was a foreign incident and a topic not often taught in depth. Well,  _ this _ much depth anyway. 

She looked at Jae with frustrated suspicion, his ease a seemingly obvious tell of foul-play. “So what was this lasting impact, you say?”

“Well, the sheer devastation and destruction provoked the United States into direct aggression with Afghanistan and later Iraq, which led to feelings of, uh, paranoia. The fanatical anti-Muslim sentiment bred by the attack is still felt today. This contributes to persistent racism and generalizations which linger in the country. Though progressive as a whole, the United States continues to be held back by fear and trauma, causing many disagreements among the people.”

Mrs. Khan gave an exasperated sigh, barely allowing Jae to finish his sentence. 

She lowered the recording device (but did not shut it off). She looked at him, furious as she cut off the unfinished exam and said, “What is this? Are you cheating? Young man, you are going to regret trying to cheat  _ me _ .”

“What? I’m not cheating, Miss,” Jae defended calmly.

“Don’t try to fool me,” she yelled back at him, grabbing his arms to check for any signs of hidden notes, disappointed to find none. “I don’t know how, but you are cheating!” 

Her prideful and condescending face looked mad, like a rabid dog that had been poked. 

“...Detention!”

_ You’re fucking kidding me _ . “Pardon? But I wasn’t-”

“Didn’t you hear me? Detention!”

“Miss, if you would just-”

“De-ten-tion! The principal will hear about this!” she spat as she opened the door to the classroom, livid. 

_ Correction _ : this flaming dinosaur of a woman was actually the  _ inspiration _ for Dolores Umbridge. She had to be.  

\----------

There was only one room in the whole school that was used consistently for detention, and it was unfortunately on the fourth floor. Shouldn’t walking up the  _ eight _ flights of stairs be punishment enough? 

Jae tried to calm himself down by imagining the substitute’s dumbstruck face when she finds out that he, in fact, did not cheat. 

Jae rarely ever got angry, but when he did, he was a dangerous person to be around. 

Nobody knew whose ass was about to be beaten to hell when Jae got angry. 

At least in this instance, he could contain himself because he  _ knew _ that his name would be cleared. The principal was aware of Jae’s tendency to baffle those ignorant of his... talents. But until she heard of this, he would simply have to attend detention. 

Heaving by the time he reached the floor, Jae spotted the infamous room number. Room 409.

Jae sighed to himself. He made his way to the door and opened it slightly, peering in tentatively before waltzing through the door. 

The few students in the room didn’t even seem to care, but the teacher sitting at the desk at the front of the class looked up on accord of the squeaking, rusty door hinges.

“Oh! Jaehyung-ah, sweetie, what are you doing here?” 

His music teacher was on detention duty? Aw, man.

Despite outward eccentricity, Jae wasn’t the type to get into trouble. He wasn’t just some mindless goof- he could be serious when he knew he needed to be, and a jokester when he knew he could be (which was luckily most of the time!).

“Hey Miss Lam,” Jae smiled, truthfully embarrassed that his favorite teacher now

knew of his ‘misbehavior’. He reached into his pocket and took out the folded detention slip, placing it in front of her. “I’ve been framed.” 

“I never thought I’d be looking after one of my best students in detention,” she said, albeit a little jokingly.

“Don’t worry, Miss Lam, I promise I’m innocent!” 

Miss Lam laughed brightly. “I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt for now, so you can sit with my other innocent student over there,” she said kindly as she pointed to Jae’s right.

Jae turned his head toward the row farthest from the door. Just one lonesome seat was taken in that row.

_ Is that-? _

He bowed to his teacher before weaving through the skewed desk rows to get to the student. He dropped himself loudly into the chair in front of said person’s seat. 

“Brian-ah~” Jae said, facing the desk behind him, and the person seated there. “Buddy…  _ teammate _ . Fancy seeing you here!”

Brian’s response was as lukewarm as ever. Barely lifting his eyes from his notebook to register the intruder’s face. 

Not that the familiar -almost  _ too _ familiar- voice wasn’t enough to recognize, even through the dim beat being transmitted by his earbuds. 

He huffed. “What are you doing here?” 

“Your curiosity warms my heart. You see, this is all a misunderstanding, and I’ll be out of here in a jiffy,” Jae leaned onto Brian’s desk and smiled sweetly. “Though I would have asked for a longer stay if I knew you’d be here.” 

Brian’s pen skidded over the page for a fraction of a second.  _ This guy really doesn’t quit, does he? _

The younger glanced at Jae through his lashes for a fleeting moment. “Yeah right, and I’m here because I just  _ love _ being in the presence of my delinquent peers,” he still said sarcastically.

“Well, why  _ are _ you actually here?” Jae fired back, narrowing his eyes at Brian. “Teen rebellion took it a bit too far?”

Brian was actively trying to ignore everyone. Continue his work in peace. 

For an odd reason, he found himself edging on a reply to Jae. He kept his focus fixed on the notebook as he spoke. “Fuck you. I just… like working here.” he answered honestly. 

Brian really liked the small room and its indescribable comfort. At least he preferred it to the empty house he had to go back to every afternoon. 

“Interesting, so-” 

“Goodbye.”

“-what’re you working on?” Jae carried on casually, unresponsive to Brian’s glares. He tried grabbing at the younger’s disorganized notebook. Not that the notebook itself was disorganized, but the scrambled writing occupying virtually every centimeter of the previous page looked  _ busy _ , to say the least.

Jae’s hand was promptly swatted away, making a sharp slapping sound. “We all have our reservations, I get it…” Jae said meekly.

Not a second later, he made another attempt at grabbing the object. 

Sadly, Brian did not even flinch when he boredly flicked Jae square in the forehead. 

Jae closed his eyes upon impact and rethought his life decisions. Just enough to pass the time. 

What could he say? He couldn’t apologize, Brian just made it so easy to bother him, it was like his big grumpy self was asking for it. Jae was nothing if not a willing volunteer. 

Truthfully, he really enjoyed it more than he should.

About half an hour had gone before Jae, who had been staring off into space, heard the sound of Brian’s chair screech across the floor. 

He watched curiously, like the meddlesome boy that he was, as the junior walked to where Miss Lam was seated. He bowed to her respectfully and said something as he placed on her desk the open notebook he was holding. 

Brian stood there fidgeting with his fingers while his teacher wordlessly reviewed the displayed pages. 

Jae’s eyes shifted from Brian to the woman, eagerly waiting for  _ any _ sort of entertainment. 

Finally, she looked up, smiled with raised eyebrows as she spoke to Brian in very expressive hand movements. She and Brian remained conversing with each other for a bit, until Miss Lam closed the notebook and gave it back to her student with a final bright grin. Jae was surprised and also somewhat in awe at seeing the pleasant interaction between the two. 

Brian made his way back to his desk, and immediately continued his work by furiously scribbling down more notes. He made new ones and scratched out old ones. Meanwhile, Jae turned around slowly, hesitantly, soon after making an educated guess about what the notebook must contain.

Intrigued, Jae looked at the younger’s upside down writings as he asked, “Those are lyrics, huh? A song?”

Not looking up, Brian scratched his upper arm and hummed in exaggerated, sarcastic confirmation. 

Jae tilted his head, trying to make eye contact with Brian as he began cutely, “Can I see-”

“When did you say you were leaving?” Brian interrupted monotonously as he resumed his meticulous work.

Jae clutched his chest in feigned hurt. “Ouch. But it must be any minute now…” 

As if by power of sheer expectation, the door swung open. 

Revealed behind were the principal and a guilty-looking Mrs. Khan. 

Meanwhile, Miss Lam looked on, unfazed. 

They were scanning the room when they spotted Jae. “Park Jaehyung, please come with me,” said the principal before exchanging an apologetic bow with the teacher at the front of the room. 

Brian finally raised his head. He noticed Jae pick up his things and walk out of the room to join the two figures, but not without sending Brian a small wink while getting out of his seat. Brian scoffed to himself.   
Well, whadda ya know? The bastard wasn’t lying before.  _ Still a shameless idiot, though _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> halfway ish done with exams and i'm sort of alive? i am so jealous of jae's intelligence, a quality which i gave him. tf kinda betrayal is this


	5. Hidden clefts of the conscious mind

_ Yep, definitely shameless _ . Brian watched on as Jae ran around, howling in triumph when he scored another jump shot from the midcourt line. 

“He shoots, he scores!” Jae cried, taking a graceful bow and preparing for a third shot. 

“How is he doing that?” Dowoon whispered with disbelief while the ball glided easily through the hoop.

“Unfair genetic privilege,” sighed Wonpil. Following Jae’s little celebratory dance, Wonpil stepped up to take his own shot, glancing anxiously at Sungjin. 

A terribly long whistle interrupted his motions, eliciting a relieved huff from Wonpil and a startled hum from Dowoon. 

From a nearby sideline bench, Coach yelled, “Alright, now we’re going to practice our passes. Stand in a circle with your teammates and pass the ball to each other. Try to get the ball to bounce only once before reaching the other person.” 

She looked around expectantly, waiting for everyone to get to their teams, but no one moved. 

“ _ Go _ !” A triplet of loud whistle-blows followed.

Students rounded themselves up wordlessly, however boredly. Our fond quintet, ever the special snowflake of the bunch, scrambled to get together, switching positions and trying their best to create a coherent shape,  _ any _ shape. 

The gross lack of cooperation by  _ some _ members made things difficult. They nonetheless succeeded. Eventually.

Maybe a few minutes passed, and a girl approached them by sneaking up behind Jae. Shielded by the senior’s tall figure, she went unnoticed by the rest of the team until she had her hands over Jae’s eyes playfully. 

He yelped, yanking the hands back and twisting around quickly. “Jiwoo! You scared me!” he scolded her with no actual malice in his voice. Maybe he even began to laugh along with her. 

The other members of the team perked up a bit, who turned their attention to the newcomer with curiosity. “Noona!” Wonpil exclaimed, greeting his elder with glee as Sungjin said, with some conspicuous fluster in his tone, “Oh! Jiwoo! Hi!”

“Hello, hello,” she smiled pleasantly at the two. 

Jae balanced the ball loosely against his hip. “What brings you here?”

“I just thought I’d drop by and meet your famous teammates…” she said with a grin while glancing around. She tried to not make her eyes linger for too long. 

“Well, you already know Sungjin and Wonpilie.” Jae turned toward Dowoon, “This is Yoon Dowoon, and that,” he turned to the remaining member, “is Kang Brian.”

Jiwoo waved to them both, and finally gave her eyes permission to rest on Brian’s unperturbed appearance. 

Despite coarseness she couldn’t deny having encountered during their first meeting, Jiwoo was hardly capable of holding herself back from attraction. I mean, have you  _ seen _ Brian? “Nice to meet you!” she said.

Dowoon responded with a small bow (a head-nod, really) while Brian quirked his eyebrow, saying nothing. He felt an unclear familiarity when he saw her face, but he brushed it aside. Made no difference to him.

_ Tough crowd _ , Jiwoo thought at Brian’s indifferent reaction,  _ but I am nothing if not persistent _ . 

She walked around Jae, stationing herself somewhere between him and Brian. She then looked between them and said, teasing, “Hey~ you’re both younger than me! How come I’m shorter?”

“We’re the same-”

“That’s unfair!” she giggled sweetly (Sungjin was:  _ swooned _ ), and lifted her hand so it landed on Brian’s shoulder nonchalantly. Brian, needless to say, did not welcome the interaction, and was certainly not afraid to show it. 

Before Jiwoo could work her charm, he rolled his eyes a bit and took a step back, cutting off any sort of interaction that was waiting to happen. Jiwoo retracted her hand promptly. She wasn’t about to allow herself to be  _ completely  _ embarrassed by leaving her hand to rest, midair, shoulder-less. She felt disappointed, but not discouraged. She smiled to the onlookers.  _ Next time, Brian-ah _ . 

It seemed hardly out of character for Brian to be a perpetual sourpuss; everyone waved Jiwoo goodbye without missing a beat. 

Jiwoo took her leave, all perfect eye-smiles and gentle waves. 

After a few moments of mindless practice, a fiery atmosphere settled in the air:

A basketball from  _ god knows where _ came hurtling toward Dowoon, colliding with his shin before he had a chance to stop it. Dowoon clutched his leg instinctively. 

“Whoa,” Sungjin immediately reached to steady Dowoon, “you okay?!”

While Dowoon nodded, Brian huffed. “It wasn’t pretty boy’s face, he’ll be fine.”

At that, Dowoon froze, biting out through gritted teeth, “ _ Don’t call me that. _ ”

“Isn’t that what you are?” Brian crossed his arms.

A glimpse of something passed over Dowoon's eyes, settling on a hardened glare instead.

As if things couldn’t get any more tense, the team was startled by a girl (the ball’s owner?) who’d rushed over. She quickly identified herself as a Dowoon-fanatic, if her visage of complete dumbstruck adoration was anything to go by.

“Oh my, Dowoonie, did your leg get hurt? I’m so sorry, really!” she blurted.

Dowoon sighed, turning away from her coldly. 

But she followed his movement in an effort to make eye-contact. “Dowoonie? I’m  _ so _ sorry!” 

Either she got the hint after a while, or simply yielded to the embarrassment of being so stubbornly denied. She picked up the ball and sped away, apologizing for the umpteenth time. She held the retrieved object against her abdomen self-consciously. 

The others seemed somewhat satisfied, glad that she at least expressed remorse for the incident. Dowoon sure wasn’t satisfied.

Funny thing was, Dowoon had never seen her act so lovely or nice before. She certainly wasn’t nice when she’d mocked someone in their math class for being too shy to answer a question. Or when her team’s ball had flown at another girl’s head only a few minutes ago- she hadn’t seemed too eager to apologize then.  _ Why do  _ I _ only deserve her kindness or consideration? _

Dowoon huffed through his flared nostrils. 

He'd acted carelessly when he launched the basketball in his hands a little too roughly toward the blurry figure idly sanding across from him. 

You know that feeling of instant regret and despair after just having done something? Yeah, Dowoon knew it too, because it was coursing through his pulsing veins at that exact moment. 

He looked on, helpless to stop the pressurized sphere while it sped through the air. The basketball, a mere servant to the force which had acted upon it, bounced once on the glistening gym floor but was not slowed down in the slightest as it came into contact, in a fatefully unfortunate turn of events, with Wonpil’s crotch. 

Yes,  _ his crotch _ . 

Oh.

_ Oh _  no .

In those next memorable seconds, no one could look away as Wonpil, who looked like he’d just been shot, crumbled to his knees. He was holding his crotch with trembling hands when he slouched forward. His forehead bopped the floor with a hollow thump. Though hidden, his face was unmistakably that of a broken man.

Sungjin covered his mouth with his hand while he gasped. 

Brian, for the first time that week, looked genuinely concerned. 

Dowoon’s eyes were about to burst from their sockets and run away in shame when he felt his hands  _ itch _ with the profound desire to punch himself. 

Jae, on the other hand, looked to be in a heated battle with himself. Does he surrender to the animalistic desire to erupt in howling laughter, or seriously consider seeking immediate medical aid for his fallen friend? Glancing at Dowoon’s bloodless face, he opted for a compromise. “It’s okay, kiddo. Wonpil probably didn’t want kids anyway!”

Wonpil squeaked out in a desperate voice, “I love kids!”

“And I love free food but we can’t all have what we want, okay.”

Only a strangled whine was heard as reply. 

Wonpil soon began to pick himself (and his dignity) up from the ground. Sungjin helped him, holding out his hand for Wonpil to gratefully take. 

Dowoon felt horrible. His body forcibly took a few clumsy steps forward, only to stumble right back. “I-I’m-I- I just,” he stuttered aimlessly, “I’m sorry- I’m sorry!”

With an air of perfectly angelic forgiveness, Wonpil chuckled and said in a high-pitched, struggling voice, “I-it’s okay… it could have been worse. You could have been like Jae-hyung, who throws things at my  _ head _ .”

“Archery requires dedicated practice for the refinement of skill.”

“ _ Not with my head _ .”

“It was one time!”

“Yeah, still one time too many.”

“With  _ my  _ amateur aim, you were perfectly safe.”

Wonpil raised an eyebrow. “Then how about I use you for knife-throwing practice?”

“...Touché.”

The Coach, who had been watching the whole fiasco unfold, sighed to herself with disappointment. “That’s another injury to the warning list.”

\----------

A day or two later, Wonpil was (thankfully) sitting comfortably with Sungjin in the library, and all was well with the world. Well, not  _ all _ all, but that’s what it seemed like, suspended in sweet seclusion with Sungjin. He would glance at the older boy every once in a while, working up the courage to start a conversation or make a clever comment that would make Sungjin laugh that endearing laugh of his. 

Being so casual about conversation was easier said than done for an awkward (but adorably so!) guy like Wonpil though. Speaking for too long usually spiraled into rambling.

_ Asking a question could help, right? Yeah, that’ll be okay; he can do all the talking and I’ll have an excuse to stare- I mean, listen attentively _ .

Wonpil sneaked a look at Sungjin as he brushed some strands of hair out of his eyes with the most graceful of sweeps. 

A clear view of the boy's forehead made Wonpil whimper when he noticed the way Sungjin’s eyebrow was raised  _ just _ slightly, in that strangely attractive, discerning way.  _ Nope, nope I meant stare. _

“So, uhhhhh, hyung, what school do you go to?” There you go, there’s a question- wait.

“I- What?”

“I SAID, WHAT SCHOOL DO YOU  _ WANT _ TO GO TO!! Like, college!” One of these days, Wonpil was going to have an aneurysm from all the stress he caused himself.

“Oh…” Sungjin shook his head, jolting himself for thinking he’d misheard. “Well, I’d ideally love to go to KAIST. Hopefully my record will be enough to get me accepted.”

“I’m not familiar… KAIST?”

“Yeah! It’s a pretty great school, so many of their graduates go on to reach the top of their field! But... I don’t know, prestige like that means I have to meet even higher standards…”

“Hyung, you’re kidding, right?” Wonpil said, “Every school in the whole  _ world _ would want you! KAIST will be begging you to enroll!”

“I don’t know-”

“I do. I know that your marks in school are probably amazing, not to mention you have, like, a million extracurriculars and leadership positions. One of them being class president!”

Humbled, Sungjin chuckled sheepishly, but Wonpil kept going, “But that’s not to say that all you have is just a list of titles and letters. Hyung, you’re one of the most diligent, caring people I’ve ever come across, and it genuinely matters to you what goes on in the world. 

You’re never idle; you’re always working or helping, or doing a combination of both. Your guidance is so encouraging and inspires those around you… to be more like  _ you _ . WWSD: What Would Sungjin Do. Totally a standard to live by. I can’t imagine a school or world that  _ wouldn’t  _ want a person like that.” 

Wonpil was heaving by now. That was a lot.

Sungjin was wide-eyed. He broke into a heart-melting smile as he said, “Thank you for saying that, Wonpil-ah. Thank you.” 

Though recovered, Wonpil was flustered by the bluntness of his own words. “Yeah… yeah, of course! Hyung.”

“You know, maybe you should be a motivational speaker.”

“Maybe I should, if it means hammering praise into your head until you believe it.”

They laughed, and slowly eased back into their own routines. Not without the emergence of an inexplicably warm air between them. But not the uncomfortable kind of warm. The soothing kind!

Sungjin felt a bloom of gratitude for the younger- not only for his aggressively soft speech, but for his presence and kindness. Much more than a simple dongsaeng, Wonpil was a  _ friend _ . 

Disruption came in a pretty form. 

“Hello!” chirped Jiwoo as she plopped down onto the chair stationed halfway between the pair’s seats. “Having a blast without me?”

Sungjin choked out a laugh as he racked his brain to process what she just said. “Oh- hi! Haha, yeah...” 

Jiwoo laughed along as she leaned over to pet Wonpil’s hair affectionately (and somewhat distractedly) when he smiled to greet her.

“Mind if I join, then?”

“Sure,” grinned Sungjin, though his feeble heart was beating with shyness in the vulnerable vicinity of his crush. 

“You know, I’ve been seeing you around more often… Did you get a schedule change?” Jiwoo spoke and watched Sungjin with curious eyes. 

Wonpil, just as unaware as Jiwoo, turned his attention to Sungjin in interest.

The raven-haired boy rushed to explain, “Oh, no, I’ve just been trying different routes and shortcuts- but I did notice we’ve been meeting more!” 

“Right! We’re always seeing each other in the hallways nowadays,” she responded cheerfully, which was adequate assurance that Sungjin’s secret was safe. He sent a mental thank-you to Jae for that god-given picture of Jiwoo’s schedule.

She continued: “By the way, thanks for taking care of the yearbook and student info of mine! Jae told me you were planning to help, and I already have an appointment for a yearbook photo.” 

Sungjin was startled at the gratitude. (How was her even tone such an antithesis to the chaos he was feeling?) He ran unsteady fingers through his hair, but dismissed the thanks. “Of course! I mean, it’s my job as class president to be responsible about these sorts of things. It was no trouble, seriously…” 

Wonpil, ever watchful of his hyung, noticed the faint blush dusting Sungjin’s cheeks, coloring them baby-pink. From Wonpil escaped a small smile at this cuteness, but it went unnoticed as Sungjin kept his gaze trained on Jiwoo. 

For no particular reason, Wonpil suddenly could see their mouths moving, probably talking, conversing, but couldn’t hear a thing. The focus of all his other senses drained out to focus all power on sight. 

Wonpil was left to observe; that look, Sungjin’s smile… Wonpil’s mind twisted and turned to figure out what was different about it. What was happening. 

_ He’s… never looked at  _ me  _ like that before _ . 

But just as the thoughts had began to settle, they left, because Sungjin’s eyes once again returned to Wonpil and cleared his mind of all that had been. The warm, blanket-like resonance of Sungjin’s voice echoed distinctly in the brunette’s ears. 

“-next weekend?” 

“Sorry, what?” Wonpil refocused with a jolt, the soapy bubble of his imagination popping.

“What are you doing next weekend? Um, Jiwoo and I were just talking about the soccer game on Sunday,” Sungjin explained slowly so as to not confuse Wonpil further.

“Oh! Oh, uh, I wasn’t really planning on doing much. Just studying…” 

“You could come to the game! I think the weather will be manageable and, from what Sungjin tells me, the girls’ team is really quite good!”

“Maybe, yeah. Will- Will you guys be there?” 

“Probably, we can all meet there! Jae wouldn’t miss it if I tell him we’re all tagging along. You could even invite your teammates from gym- if you want!” 

“Oh, yeah. We… could do that,” Sungjin added awkwardly. But thoroughly proud of himself for arranging time with his crush.

“Great! I’ll see you both soon then, yeah?” Jiwoo rose from her seat, apparently the only one who’d noticed the bell ring. Before beginning to walk away, she smiled widely to Wonpil and gave an inquiring hum. 

Sungjin and Wonpil both agreed with promises along the same lines. 

“Great! See you around!”

\----------

He was pulling on his skinny jeans as quickly as one could put on skinny  _ godforsaken _ jeans in a cramped locker room, waist-deep in the lovely odor of raging testosterone and toxic masculinity.

Brian was making a general mental list of his afternoon responsibilities, naturally to distract himself from the horrors which lay just a few meters away. 

First, he had to consider the usual of School & Study. He then gladly directed his attention to more engaging plans: practice, finishing the refrain melody without making it sound so fucking emo ( _ must remove G chord _ ), use Miss Lam’s notes for the rewrite of second verse. 

While in the process of accepting the fact that he’d, at this rate, end up going to bed at 3:00 AM, Brian realized a crucial flaw in his plan.

_ Where.  _

_ is. _

_ my. _

_ notebook. _

Brian’s precious notebook, imprinted with the inky writing of his most heartfelt musings, could always be found in a separate messenger bag. Brian carried it around everywhere he went, never knowing when inspiration might strike. It somehow made him feel more productive and accomplished to carry the work on his shoulder. Good for his confidence.

_ Is this for real?! Where the fuck is the bag?  _

Throwing on his shirt haphazardly and nearly smacking a boy straight across the face in the process, Brian checked his immediate surroundings, hoping the bag had somehow been misplaced or moved.

No such luck. 

Brian angrily admitted to himself that one of his bags (his more valuable one, for sure) had gone missing. Now all he could do was retrace its whereabouts throughout the day:

He’d definitely brought the bag to school; he distinctly remembered the ache in his shoulder from the added weight of the bag this morning, like every other. 

And he definitely had the notebook, therefore the bag, at lunch when he visited one of the school’s practice rooms to speak with Miss Lam. That was when she’d given him more pointers, the ones he was going to review tonight.  _ So it wasn’t at lunch _ … 

Next in Brian’s schedule was art class, maths, then (lastly and currently) gym. Well, it certainly wasn’t present in gym. And… he had a calculus test. He was in a rush so he wouldn’t be outrageously late… He didn’t remember picking up two bags at the end of the period. Or dropping two bags onto the floor at the start.

_ I left it in the art room! I left my bag in the art room! _

Without sparing a second thought, he swung his backpack over his shoulder and began the trek to the door. Brian dodged several half-naked freshies and an abandoned baseball bat (very dangerously lying on the ground, might he add), but he could feel the tingles of an anxiety that he hadn’t experienced in a very long time: fear for the loss of something dear. 

Almost always oozing an aura of coolness and complete indifference, Brian was now speeding through the door in a haze. His mind was barely cognizant of Sungjin’s goodbyes. In the midst of this chaos, Brian could recall that Life Drawing session was taking place today in the art room. Which meant the room would be open.

His exhale in that exact moment could not have felt more liberating. The rhythm of Brian’s heart was finally slowing to a manageable beat. He didn’t want to think about having to wait until tomorrow to get the notebook back. The anxiety would have eaten him alive. Something about leaving something so close to his heart out in the open for scrutiny and maltreatment made him feel so vulnerable. Like he was 13 years old again.

Brian’s stride returned to its slow, sure pace. He stepped up the stairs toward the Music & Arts tower, his vision sharp enough to recognize another figure, just a few ways away. 

\----------

“ _ Nice! _ ” Jiwoo exclaimed.

“We’re on a roll,” Jae high-fived her, his stride falling in step with hers. “Come on, we are totally subconsciously communicating with each other- we must be. I mean, we’ve both walked out of our respective locker rooms at the  _ same time _ for the past, like, week! Isn’t that weird? So weird.” 

“ _ Or _ ,” Jiwoo suggested with an unconvinced look, “we both just take roughly equal amounts of time to get ready, and exit at the same time because we also  _ enter _ at the same time.” 

Jae stared blankly at her for a few seconds before repeating, just as determined, “It’s  _ weird _ .”

The school bell rang out, making the hallway steadily become louder as students flooded the long corridor. It only took a look for Jiwoo and Jae to silently agree on turning into the hallway less taken by the bulk of students. 

A groan from Jiwoo prompted Jae’s curiosity. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing… I just remembered my dad say that he’d be late today. So I’m gonna have to wait...” she glanced at the time on her phone, “about half an hour? He’s still leaving work early for me though, so I’d better just sit and wait here.” 

Jae hummed. “I can stay with you.”

“That’s okay, you don’t have to wait here with me-”

“I know I don’t have to stay, I want to.”

Jiwoo exaggerated her grin, hitting Jae on the arm. “Jae, that… that was smooth?" She suddenly clutched her heart, with a face of vague hurt.

Jae looked to her concerned. "You good?"

"Wait," she thought for a second. "My heart just fluttered,” she teased in an overly sweet voice.

Jae rolled his eyes so far back he's pretty sure they knocked against his skull.

He and Jiwoo exited through the back-doors of the school, and lowered themselves onto the small step of cement under the pillars of the building’s entrance. 

Students passed by, some getting picked up by their parents while others walked home. Glancing at the figures contemplatively, Jiwoo began:

“You know, there’s so many new faces here, but I immediately knew who you were when I saw you in gym,” she smiled. “You haven’t changed even a little bit. Well, okay, your height or hair color or clothes might have changed, but  _ you _ never did.” Jae turned to look at her fondly. “You’re still the same quirky jokester social butterfly from middle school.”

“Quirky? That’s just the nice way of saying weird,” he pointed out.

“Mmm, I agree.”

“ _ Hey _ ,” he whined as he bumped her shoulder with his own. Nevertheless, they laughed, reminiscent of their time as best friends during childhood. 

“I assume you’re still in love with pizza,” she said with little doubt.

“Well I’m not saying I’m a pizza snob but that’s exactly what I am. With good reason! But what about you?” 

“Hmm?” 

“What’s your love life like? Bet you can’t top mine,” he joked.

Jiwoo bit her lip as she smiled to say, turning away briefly, “There  _ might _ be someone…” 

Jae choked on his water, “Oh shit, I didn’t think you’d answer seriously!” He slapped her knee repeatedly. “ _Jiwoo!_ _Who is it~_ ” 

“Pick your prying ahjumma nose out of my business,” she teased him. “I’m not sure if something will come out of it, but I’ll do my damned hardest to try. He’s a real cutie. Brooding type. Sexy.” 

“Whoa, don’t let me hold you back,” Jae cheered.  _ I’ve missed this _ , he thought happily. 

“I wouldn’t let you,” Jiwoo said and winked. “He’s too good of a catch.”

“You’re hyping this kid up a lot. I’m getting so curious it  _ hurts _ . Please, spare some mercy for my crippling nosiness.”

“It might…. It might be your teammate.”

“My teammate?” Jae echoed, confused. “Who the fuck is that? Are siblings considered teammates?  _ You’re in love with my sister? _ ”

“What? No, you tit, I meant your teammates from gym,” Jiwoo interrupted, and felt the urge to facepalm.

Jae made a long noise of epiphany. “That makes more sense. My sister isn’t a guy. Or a student. Or in Korea.”

Jiwoo sighed heavily.

“So, who is it? It’s killing me!”

“Hmm, I don’t know…” Jiwoo innocently pondered.

Jae sneered. “Evil wench.”

Jiwoo scoffed triumphantly.

“I hope it’s not Dowoonie, you predator.”

“Hey! He’s only two years younger than me! I’m not some wrinkly old creep.”

Jae perked up. “So is that it? It’s him?!”

“I never said that…” Jiwoo said in feigned contemplation. “Do  _ you _ have anyone special?” she smirked at her childish friend. 

“Nice try, buddy,” Jae grumbled lightheartedly. He paused for a few seconds though, a frown etched onto his features. “I’ve never really had someone special like that. Not since, I don’t know, kindergarten or something.”

“Wait, for real? Would you say you’re more… indifferent to those kinds of things?” she urged.

“Not really. I love people and making friendships, and, honey, I can tell when someone’s H-O-T. But I haven’t felt anything beyond that. I make jokes, but... yeah. Honestly, I don’t know what it’s even supposed to  _ feel _ like?”

“Do you think you ever will?” Jiwoo spoke with an eager tone, but Jae’s answer left her yet with more questions. 

“I’m not sure,” he concluded casually. A car pulled up in front of them, honking once. 

“Oh! That’s my dad!” Jiwoo got up quickly, ruffling Jae’s pink hair, “I’ll see you tomorrow!” She paused her leave to look back at Jae, “You know, you remind me a lot of CL, sitting there like that.”

“CL?  _ The _ CL? Am I really comparable to the queen herself? Shit, girl, thanks!”

“Short for Chicken Little!” she yelled back, laughing maniacally. 

“ _ Oh, fuck you! _ ”

\----------

Brian guessed that he and the boy were taking the same route. That flight of stairs only had one destination anyway. At the slight turn of a head, Brian confirmed that the figure was Dowoon. Though he felt no inclination to call out to him.

As a result, he walked slowly behind the sophomore, the two remaining a few meters apart. They came to eventually part ways when Dowoon took a turn to enter a large empty practice room. 

Practice rooms at their school thankfully held a wide variety of instruments, allowing students the opportunity to experiment with music, free of charge. 

_ Free of charge _ , Brian thought unexpectedly,  _ now that’s something Jae-hyung would like _ .  _ Wait, why the fuck did that weasel pop into my head _ . 

He shook his head, hoping the thought would trickle out of his head.

Looks like the nude model hadn’t arrived at the art room yet, which meant everyone was simply lazing around, waiting for her appearance. Brian scanned the room’s floor frantically before spotting his leathery bag lying limply against a stool. 

He weaved through a group of gossipy hipsters, and snatched up his bag eagerly from the ground, opening it with tear-jerking happiness to find his notebook still inside.  _ Yes! _

“Watch it,  _ faggot _ ,” a guy spat from behind him, wearing an obnoxious beanie and a t-shirt that screamed with insecurity of true originality or creativity. The guy was also  _ jacked _ , for some reason. Odd contrast. 

Brian hardly took a second to respond, unfazed:

“Go fuck yourself,” he spat, turning around to face the offender, “because, even as a gay guy, I sure wouldn’t.” 

That definitely shut down any and all further insults. One could say Brian got the last word. Not that he was keeping track or anything. 

With a front of arrogance and cat-like sharpness, Brian strode out after knocking against the shoulder of his victim as he passed.

En route toward the staircase he’d taken earlier, Brian walked by the practice rooms and gave a quick, passing glance at their interior, simply out of curiosity. Something indescribably stopped him at what he saw. Specifically,  _ who _ .

It was Dowoon, passionately playing the drums (soundlessly from Brian’s perspective), with stunning grace. He sure didn’t look like a newbie, that was for sure. 

He wasn’t playing forcefully. Rather, powerfully. Fluidly and powerfully, as if the music was flowing through him and into the drums.

A faint rim of shine on the younger’s dark hair constantly changed shape and size as Dowoon’s head swirled around in sync with the music. Brian felt his legs step closer to the square window on the door.

There was a strange weight in Dowoon’s motions, a purpose in his every beat. He seemed troubled, as if he was playing more out of necessity than pleasure. 

Dowoon’s eyebrows were furrowed and his eyes barely open for most of the time. 

He was playing with emotion Brian only recognized because of his own experience with it. Brian spotted signs of a burden only relieved by the safety and solitude of one’s own melodious imagination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> get ready for some angst, bros. permanent sad boi hours: activated :((((((


	6. Anarchy of the heart

The air felt unfamiliarly crisp as Wonpil stepped through the library’s threshold. He had a little pep in his step, marvelling at the _perfectly_ cool atmosphere.

He quietly wished for these changing winds to be some sort of divine omen of future fortune.

...It was probably the school’s stingy reluctance to use the heaters, though.

Wonpil dropped his bag beside the smooth finish of a bookcase, then sliding down ungracefully against it until he landed on the ground:

“Hey, hyung!”

Sungjin snapped his head up, evidently confused before he peered through the opening between two stacks of books to spot the beaming figure sitting on the carpeted floor.

Separated only by a bookcase, Sungjin lowered himself into a squat and adjusted a few textbooks propped up on the shelf so that he could view the younger brunette at eye-level. “Wonpil-ah! I thought you said you wouldn’t be coming in today…?”

“Oh, yeah, it all just ended up falling through. She said she’ll have to reschedule it again,” Wonpil huffed.

Sungjin nodded sympathetically, but was close to bursting out in a smile seeing Wonpil’s pout and adorably enlarged eyes, reminding him of a puppy. “Aww, counselor meetings _suck_. That’s certainly one thing I don’t miss about junior year.”

“I wish I was a senior,” Wonpil drawled, making Sungjin chuckle.

Ah, that laugh… Wonpil would give anything, sell his left, right, or both kidneys ( _wait, can you live without a kidney?_ ), just to make Sungjin laugh.

But why did it seem like every time he did, Sungjin would get this expression oddly reminiscent of someone watching a 5 year old get excited playing with a rattle toy? Fond, but patronizing, in a way.

Not necessarily in a bad way, that is, but one that certainly betrayed a feeling of distance, as if saying: ‘Oh, silly child, how cute you are with your innocent ways.’ Wonpil a child; Sungjin an adult.

 _No, stop that. It’s just a natural part of the culture! You’re his dongsaeng, and he thinks you’re_ cute _. What’s so bad about that?_ _Maybe… maybe cute enough to even like you_.

Wonpil put on his cutest smile. “What are you reading, hyung?”

“Oh, just another book for my research paper. Three down, two more print sources to go!” Sungjin feigned enthusiasm while he stretched back up to standing position. “I told you, you don’t have to come all the way to the bookshelves with me, Wonpil-ah. I’ll just be here for another day or two until I find good enough sources for my work.”

“It’s really fine, hyung- I like it here! I feel so studious when I’m surrounded by all these books,” the younger responded, to Sungjin’s amusement.

“Yeah? Is the information just extemporaneously diffusing into your head?”

“...I have no idea what that means.’

“Guess it’s not working all that much.”

“Hey!” Wonpil’s cheeks stretched with a bright laugh, matching Sungjin’s teasing smile.

The elder meticulously sifted through what seemed like entire piles of books while Wonpil sat quietly after that. Wonpil sneaked occasional glances at the impressive ripple of Sungjin’s calf muscles when he’d happen to shift his weight from one leg to the other.

Unfortunately, almost getting caught staring certainly put a damper on his intentions. For now, he’d have to lay low until it was safe to stare again.He pouted, but was easily distracted.

In complete stillness, Wonpil could see tiny specks of dust floating calmly in the air, while the faint radiance of the sun warmed his body. Tipping his head until it was held against the shelf behind him, Wonpil closed his eyes and smiled. The upward tilt of his face made it easy to spare a last glance at Sungjin’s focused expression.

He turned to the binder sitting on his lap; he couldn’t procrastinate forever. Well, _actually_ …

Nonetheless, Wonpil became so absorbed by his work that he hardly noticed when someone new entered the vicinity.

To be fair, the figure had come from (and remained on) “Sungjin’s side” of the library, making the entrance harder to spot for Wonpil, whose visibility was hindered by his spot on the ground. It was only when he decided to try his luck again at staring that he realized someone’s legs- pale, delicate legs- were just a few degrees to the left of his crush.

Wonpil’s eyes rose, resting on the outgoing girl by whom he’d come to be doted upon so often. _Jiwoo-noona_!

By the looks of it, she seemed quite taken by her own book, big almond eyes slowly tracing each line of text.

 _She probably hasn’t even noticed us,_ Wonpil thought. He was about to call out, greet her cheerily, when the words all died in his throat, suddenly forgotten.

Sungjin, maybe two meters away from his classmate, was looking directly at Jiwoo. Not at the bookcase, or at the sunshine streaming in through the window behind her, though his eyes _did_ seem entranced by something as bright and wondrous as the sun. He was looking at _her_. Like her silhouette would somehow reveal life’s greatest mysteries, and glancing away for just a moment could mean a loss of grip on Pandora’s Box itself. His eyes were practically twinkling.

He watched her shyly, sometimes even beaming with the smallest of smiles, as she hadn’t noticed him yet. He was free to look at her with as much adoration as he pleased, the rest of the world melting away in her presence.

And against his will, Wonpil recognized that expression, a cruel, cruel toll calling him down from his comfortable cloud of fantasy.

He stared, back and forth, at them both, a suddenly fearful desperation crawling under his skin. But it was useless: he was a mere observer. Powerless to interfere.

Sitting there, frozen, Wonpil didn’t know how much time passed, though it felt like an eternity. It must’ve been a few seconds. It honestly could have been twenty minutes. He really didn’t know.

Fractions of a single moment seemed to stretch over miles and miles, forcefully enough to almost burst into pieces.

Much like Wonpil’s heart.

\----------

The classroom was positively buzzing with commotion as students scrambled left and right to snatch up their partners.

In light of the announced project, there was great anxiety regarding The Selection; your partner was your _comrade_ , and an ill-fated partnership could mean a terrible final product or a terrible six weeks of doing the project alone. Since the class was comprised of students from various grade levels, Miss Lam required that the groupings be made between two people of different grades. Damn teachers and their incessant need to enforce socializing.

Brian released a loud groan, unconcerned by its volume as it was likely drowned out by the frazzled rustling around him.

 _Group fucking projects_. Brian truly despised them.

Why couldn’t he just do the assignment by himself and not have to rely on some half-wit slacker who would make _him_ finish the entire project because apparently that’s what the ‘group’ in ‘group project’ meant.

But through the overall chaos of the room, he was shaken by a determined yell:

“ _You!_ ”

Out of curiosity, more than anything else, Brian looked up toward the general vicinity of the screech; he honestly wished he hadn’t.

Standing tall at the farthest corner of the room with his arm outstretched, pointer finger oriented offensively at Brian, was Jae. _Motherfuck_ -

“YOU,” Brian saw the elder’s lips say.

His eyes could only follow Jae’s form, helplessly, as it made its way across the room with deliberate strides and stopped at the foot of his desk. With that _stupid_ look on his face, he said, “Hey partner~”

Brian was dumbfounded. This almost felt like he was being featured on an episode of ‘Naked and Afraid’ because he felt too small glaring up at Jae’s tall frame. He didn’t like it.

“You have a better chance of convincing Satan to do the project with you. Move along, stringbean.”

“Oh, come on! We could be a _dream team_!”

“Yeah, because the only time we’d ever be a team is in your dreams.”

Jae slammed his hands on the desk, making even Brian jump in his seat. He watched with surprise as Jae lowered his face to Brian’s eye level:

“Look, I’m going to be honest. You’re the best student. I’m the best student. _We_ could make the best project. I really don’t want to be exploited into doing someone else’s work, and I have a feeling you don’t either. So let’s be productive, together.”

Jae returned to full height then and smiled kindly, with ( _deceptive!!!_ ) innocence. He held out his hand, looking directly at other youth’s face.

Brian turned away coldly but remained in thought for a few moments. He couldn’t deny the truth in the words of this talking tree.

They _were_ the two most successful students in the room, and considering the level of work this class required, slacking was not going to be an option. It would be a fucking pain in his ass to have to deal with Jae on a more frequent basis, sure, but his pride wouldn’t let him ignore the appeal of receiving a capable partner and, thus, a stellar grade.

Besides, he really didn’t have anyone else lining up to be his partner; Jae did. _I’ll maintain minimum contact, it’ll be fine..._

Purposefully, Brian locked eyes with his hyung, as if telling him: “You’d better get your shit together. We’re partners now.” And with a final huff, grasped Jae’s hand.

About ten minutes later, when it seemed like everyone had mostly settled down, Miss Lam began to take down the names of every established group. As she made her way toward the very back of the room, the last student to be called upon was Dowoon.

“Oh! Dowoon-ah, I’m very sorry, but it seems like we have an odd number of students… I must have miscounted earlier. You’ll have to work alone. You can have some extra time if you need it, sweetie.”

The youngest simply nodded obediently. He had turned down (and by that he meant ‘outright ignored’) many requests from the girls in his class, so working alone seemed like a fantastic alternative. He really hadn’t thought he’d be able to get away without a partner, though.

 _How did that little bastard get away without a partner?!_ Brian cursed the hands of fate.

\----------

Since proverbially opening his eyes, Wonpil couldn’t close them. Days passed, yet moments with him had become heavy.

Wonpil would sit there as he spoke about stress over college applications; spoke about the winning point he scored for his team last night; spoke about the college program he’s been thinking about applying to.

And every once in awhile, she’d come up in conversation, randomly and casually.

It would be something perfectly reasonable even, like a reminder to solidify plans for the weekend game, or asking Wonpil if she’s doing okay in her classes (since Jae and Wonpil were the two of his friends with whom she often spoke).

He’d even compliment her sometimes. Make passing comments about her sweet demeanor. Cuteness. Charm. Her radiant smile, her infectious laugh.

Comments that were so casual, and made Wonpil cringe.

Sungjin’s face easily lit up at the mention of her, and each time felt like a small cut into Wonpil’s fragile body.

Yet, interestingly, sometimes it wouldn’t seem to matter at all. Because Wonpil could be content just talking with Sungjin, hearing him speak. That was what he treasured most. Also looking at his beautiful, smiling face. That beautiful, beautiful face-

“ _Ahem_ ,” Dowoon coughed distantly, calling Wonpil back to reality.

Awkwardly passing the basketball to each other didn’t seem like the most riveting occupation, true. But Coach’s beady eyes were following his every motion, and he wasn’t in the mood to be reproached.

The junior’s eyes crinkled into a smile, and he apologized quickly. His response was easy.

“So... how are your classes going?” Wonpil asked in an attempt to break the strange silence. He passed the ball.

“They’re okay.”

“Are any of them difficult? Sophomore year is pretty tough… lots of stress. I’m sure your teachers are starting to become more demanding.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you, um, play any sports? Any extracurriculars?”

“Yep.”

Wonpil waited patiently for Dowoon to expand, but no expansion seemed to be forming. “That’s great! Which ones?”

“Soccer, swimming, tennis. Some clubs, hobbies.”

_Holy shit, he sure keeps himself busy. How does he even have time for those?_

_The only other person who could handle all that would be… Sungjin._

Disregarding the momentary lapse into melancholy, Wonpil remembered: _Wait, Dowoon said soccer._ “Oh, Dowoon-ah, are you on Sungjin-hyung’s soccer team, then?

“Well, there’s only one soccer team...”

 _He could have just said yes_. “It’s a really difficult sport, right?”

“I guess.”

“Well, you’re both very smart and capable, so I’m sure you can handle it well,” Wonpil said with finality.

Dowoon, however, froze at the compliment. He held the ball, staring.

Wonpil didn’t know him, didn’t know _anything_ about him, yet here he was. Praising him.

Not just any praise. He’d called him smart. _Smart!_ Dowoon couldn’t remember the last time someone called him that. It must have been years ago, maybe.

Dowoon was commended, drooled at even, daily, but not about _that_. And Wonpil had said it so naturally, like… like he’d really meant it.

The class went by easily, and Dowoon watched Wonpil with curious eyes.

\----------

Later that night, in his bed, when all lay still and dark, the thoughts Wonpil had been shooing off for so long were finally creeping into his consciousness.

“Oh no,” he whined as he clutched the pillow over his face in agony.

Wonpil fussed around in his bed, kicking his legs with flailing desperation. He was not ready to face reality.

“I can just sleep and pretend like nothing ever happened!”

Newsflash: he can’t. He can’t because he is a mature, capable man who can sort out his emotions in a calm manner.

“Oh my god, I’m going to throw up,” Wonpil squeaked, jumping to rush into the bathroom. Only to stare down his disheveled reflection in the mirror.

His pajama shirt, which was really just a ratty white shirt, was draped asymmetrically around his neck, so lopsidedly stretched out that his left collarbone was almost completely exposed. His eyes looked sunken by the dark rims surrounding them, and there was a frown plastered over Wonpil’s face.

His hair looked mostly okay, except for one section at the crown of his head which was somehow standing completely upright, kind of like an antenna protruding from his skull.

He looked directly at the piece of hair through the mirror while he scolded, “You! It’s you! Just like my shitty feelings. Eeeeeeeeeverything was fine before _you_ came along; everything was fine! My hair looked perfectly fine! It’s all your fault!!"

Granted, Wonpil’s inhibitions were always at an all-time low before sleep, so yelling at his own hair seemed like a reasonable idea.

He leaned over the sink, the weight of several days crashing down onto his slouched shoulders. He closed his eyes so he could focus.

 _Okay, okay. You need to calm down_ . _You’re talking to your hair, again_.

Wonpil splashed water over his face before returning to bed. And with a final sigh, he lied motionless while staring at the ceiling. _Okay_.

The room seemed more quiet than ever, Wonpil’s faint whisper the only thing echoing against the walls. No-one else, just he.

That was a surprisingly daunting feeling.

Wonpil couldn’t hide from himself, no matter how hard he tried.

He held his face in his hands, trying to somehow stabilize his raging emotions, too.

Wonpil started, as plainly as he could muster, “I like Sungjin-hyung.” He took in a deep breath. “S...S...Sungjin-hyung likes me.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, he began thrashing around in his bed again. “No, no he doesn’t! It just sounds wrong- he couldn’t! He probably likes Jiwoo-noona now. God, how did I just notice?”

He’d been staring at Jiwoo so intently. Thinking back, there were many times when Sungjin’s priorities became clear in her presence.

He’d been so naive.

“Why would he like _me_ ? He couldn’t. He _doesn’t_. Or does he? I’m sure he’s stared at me before- I felt it! Maybe… What if he’s not even gay, or at least bisexual?!”

Thousands of thoughts, doubts, and hopes were flooding in at once. He was confused beyond belief.

It felt too boastful to say that Sungjin liked him, but too dismissive to say that he didn’t. It was impossible to deny that there’s something between Sungjin and Jiwoo, but Wonpil had sometimes been almost shameless in his display of attraction, so who’s to say that Sungjin hadn’t noticed?

 _Maybe he did notice and he’s ignoring it. Because he doesn’t like you that way_ , the evil, self-deprecating part of Wonpil said. _He must be disgusted by you; imagine if he’s homophobic. Oh boy, you’ll be in big trouble then._

Suddenly, a loud thud on Wonpil’s bedroom door scared him enough to almost rattle him off the bed. Classic horror-movie music sounded in the back of his mind, and Wonpil’s imagination began to run absolutely wild.

Hesitantly, only half-sure that it wasn’t a burglar or an axe-muderer, he tiptoed to his door and yanked it open. You know, for the element of surprise.

As soon as the threshold was cleared, he heard a (thankfully) familiar, quick padding against the hardwood floor.

“Choco!” Wonpil couldn’t exactly spot his Cavapoo puppy’s dark brown figure in the dark of his room, but it was easy to follow the sound of her paws, unsurprisingly, to his bed. “You want to sleep with me?”

Of course, she was way too small to reach it. Wonpil scooped her up to place her gently on the center of his bed. Adorably, she traced the spot by walking around it in circles a few times before finally laying down.

Wonpil slowly joined her on the bed, facing her. He ran his hand over her small frame in repetitive motions. She seemed to like the gesture, as she laid her head down over her crossed paws, relaxed.

Choco’s fur felt soft, despite its hybrid wavy-curly texture. It was soothing. He could slide his fingers through the rare knots in her fur, leaving behind only gentle curls as they passed.

Why couldn’t he fix the knot in his heart, then?

“You know, you should feel honored I’m doing this. You’re the only girl I’m ever going to sleep with.”

Choco didn’t seem too moved by this, but Wonpil scoffed at his own joke.

The lightheartedness didn’t last too long.

“I don’t know what to do, Choco. It’s all a mess.” Her ears perked up at that, as if she understood. “I just don’t know. Does he like Jiwoo-noona? Does he like me? Does he like neither of us? No-one at all???

“There’s no instruction manual for this shit- pardon my language, baby. Is it my place to ask this of him? To ask for his feelings? Am I even worth his time, his consideration?”

Choco gave a small whine and licked Wonpil’s hand reassuringly; he couldn’t help but smile, albeit weakly.

Why hadn’t he seen it before, the way he acted around her? A feeling of urgency clawed at Wonpil’s chest, as if this epiphany started some sort of race he didn’t even know he was competing in. And he was falling behind already.

“I’m being selfish, aren’t I…” He sighed, again, “I can’t help it. I like him! I- I have to do something, but _what_? I don’t seem to have much time, and it hurts too much.”

The puppy somehow found her way onto his chest, tiny enough to barely cover half of Wonpil’s chest. Wonpil unconsciously continued petting her while his mind swarmed with scenarios.

 _I want to tell you how I feel, hyung, but will you listen to me? Will you see me?_ Me _, not just some kid._

_Can I ask that of you? Should I leave you be, or should I tell you?_

Both Wonpil and Choco finally drifted off into peaceful, dream-filled sleep, one on top of the other. Disregarding the fact that Choco ended up on Wonpil’s face come morning, it was a pretty cute scene.

\----------

Sungjin wasn’t in a particularly wonderful mood that Friday morning, but the week was going by smoothly, so he didn’t have much to complain about. Actually, scratch that, he had a shit-ton to complain about, but he wasn’t petty enough to do that.

… Scratch that too, he’d like to complain about several things, but maybe one or two would suffice. _Perhaps Wonpilie would be kind enough to hear out some of my troubles_.

In the library, he was slightly taken aback by what he saw:

For the first time since the beginning of the school-year, Wonpil was the first one to arrive at the library. Oddly, he seemed to be fidgeting (more than usual, that is), his leg practically about to bang against the tabletop underside with how violently he was bouncing it on the heel of his foot.

Sungjin was only trying to help when he came up behind Wonpil and placed a hand on his shoulder, yet the younger’s worry only became inflamed, judging by the jolt through his body.

“Whoa-a, hey, it’s me.”

“Oh! Hi, hyung,” Wonpil replied softly, watching the raven-haired senior sit down. It was difficult to ignore, however, the burden that emanated from his voice. Sungjin’s concerns could wait.

“What’s up, kiddo? You alright?”

Wonpil flinched a little at the name. His nerves were on fire.

He looked into Sungjin’s expectant eyes, and he saw the window of opportunity; this was it. _You can’t push it off. Can’t delay. Before anything else, you have to know. You have a right to know, and so does Sungjin. Ask. Ask. Ask!_

“Hyung…”

Wonpil pinched himself hard enough to draw blood, but he didn’t notice. All he saw was the chance he could lose. He had to do this. Only this. It’s the best he could do. So finally, he asked the question that’s been clawing at his insides, tearing him apart:

“Do you like Jiwoo-noona?”

Sungjin was at a loss for words, and stared blankly. He wasn’t even sure if it was a serious question.

But considering Wonpil’s expression, he’d venture to guess that it was an honest inquiry. More importantly, _how the hell did he figure it out?_ He was flustered, but laughed with the charisma he was so well-known for and said, “Wonpilie, that’s ridiculous, what are you-”

“Hyung.”

“I don’t, Wonpil-ah,” Why did Sungjin feel an inexplicable desire to tell him? To tell _someone_?

Wonpil was careful not to become too hopeful, but a few more rejections and he’d be sure of Sungjin’s sincerity. “Are you sure? It’s okay if you do, hyung. I just wanted to ask to, uh, clear some things up.”

Sungjin ran a nervous hand through his dark hair. He trusted Wonpil. Inexplicably, he really did. Somehow. “I do,” oh jeez, here goes, “Like her, I mean.”

“You- you do?” _Stab_.

“Yeah,” Sungjin said awkwardly, but with relief. He finally let it out. _I finally let it out!_

“You do.” Wonpil felt himself grow faint. “Hyung- that’s really great! Really, I mean, wow!”

“Thanks Wonpilie… I’m not really sure why I told you so easily, but I’m glad I did. It’s nice to finally say it out loud. You know? Get my emotions out.”

Sungjin, hardly a mind-reader, was oblivious to the duality of his statement.

This was it. Sungjin liked her. It wasn’t an opinion anymore, nor a doubt. It was a fact.

 _This was what you wanted, wasn’t it? You wanted to know for sure before you confessed, and now you do,_ Wonpil thought.

And it was true; this was the product of his actions. _He_ chose this path, and now he must walk it.

But Sungjin looked so happy, with a smile so genuine and pure. “And… I trust you with this information, Wonpil-ah. I really do. I know you talk with Jiwoo pretty often, but I’m sure that our friendship is security enough.”

“D-Definitely, hyung. I wouldn’t betray you.” _Stab_.

“Which reminds me… I’ve been thinking… I’m not sure if this is inappropriate for me to ask, but… would you maybe possibly be open to helping me become closer with her?”

“I-”

“Hear me out, please! It’s clear to me that you and Jae are closest with her, but I know that if I ever asked this of Jae, I would _never_ hear the end of his mockery. I understand if it’s too burdensome for you, so it’s really okay if you say no. I just thought I’d ask because all I want is a shot with her.”

Wonpil stared at Sungjin.

“ _I like her_.”

Well, this just kept getting better and better.

Wonpil, as much as he liked to imagine that he’d smash his hand down on the table and declare his love for Sungjin, a now clearly straight man, despite the obvious obstacles, and finally be the master of his own feelings, felt absolutely helpless.

He’d never realized it, but there was a certain beauty in not knowing the truth. The beauty of uncertainty. No- the beauty of _possibility_ , of _hope_.

Like a soap-bubble popping, the spell was finally broken. Cinderella’s pumpkin couldn’t stay a wondrous carriage forever.

Sungjin was straight; Wonpil was gay. Sungjin liked Jiwoo; Wonpil liked Sungjin. Sungjin was in control; Wonpil was not. Suddenly, the two seemed poles apart, Wonpil’s dreams drifting farther and farther away. All without ever even having kept a steady grip on them.

And all it took was three words.

Wonpil wanted to say no. He wanted to refuse. ‘No, I CAN’T help you win the love of someone else because I’M the one who likes YOU! Can’t you see that?!’

He wanted to be happy with Sungjin. But he couldn’t have that.

The next priority, then, was to be happy _for_ Sungjin. To see that beautiful smile on his face for as long as possible.

“Okay. I’ll help you, hyung.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the slight delay!! i was SWAMPED with work and i highkey still am but it's friday so i was able to take a breather! i hope everyone is doing well in whatever you are all pursuing and taking care of yourselves <3 stay warm!! (it's cold as fuckkkk here)


	7. Freedom in confinement

Honestly, Dowoon knew he’d regret accepting the invite to the girls’ soccer game that Sunday. Then again, his siblings were back from Paris now, and he didn’t feel particularly up for the task of facing them. Spending a grueling two hours listening to them yap and scold him and tell him what he should and should not be doing with his life. 

_ I get enough of that from Mom and Dad _ .

Now, squished between Wonpil’s rather slender body but Jaehyung’s rowdy, hardly-ever-immobile body, Dowoon surrendered to the bitter taste of déjà vu. Was this really the lesser of two evils? Debatable.

They’d all met on the soccer field; 6:00 PM, as planned. 

Jae, of course, was the only one who arrived at 6:22 PM (according to Jae himself, though everyone else was adamant that it had really been 6:30). He was already yelling when he jumped into the last seat on the bleachers next to Dowoon, rambling on about trying to feed some stray cat and realizing that he can communicate in “feline”? He supposedly proceeded to have a conversation with the cat, as one logically does in the afternoon, even teaching it how to wait for treats.

Let’s go over that again.

He taught a stray cat, which inherently has no regular source of food, how to NOT pursue food. 

Jae paused.  _ OH MY GOD- _

Absolutely riveting experiences, really. 

On the bleachers, two sets of three were created, placing Sungjin, Jiwoo and Brian on the row in front of Wonpil, Dowoon and Jae, respectively. 

Dowoon, though somewhat aloof in many respects, could easily sense a sort of tension. An almost physical thickness, so strong that its impact was tangible. Or maybe that was just Jae’s arms around his body.  _ Wait what. _

“Yay, we all made it!”

Jiwoo jumped in, “Funny you should say that, Mr. Tardy. Wonpil and I were just placing our bets regarding your excuse of lateness, actually.”

“Told you it was gonna be something about an animal again. Pay up, noona~”

Jiwoo stared longingly at her packet of sour candy before releasing it into Wonpil’s hand. “You win this time.” She luckily didn’t hear him sigh at the comment. 

Winning couldn’t be further from the truth when it came to Wonpil nowadays.

“First of all, I’d like to clarify to the newest squad members here that I am  _ not _ that predictable. I am dangerous and untamed, like a tiger… or a platypus.” Jae said and scrunched his nose at the gamblers. “You know, platypi are actually poisonous-”

“Oh please, you’re about as spontaneous as an endergonic reaction, Jae,” Sungjin interjected with a chuckle. His eyes flickered momentarily to Jiwoo. That was a good pun, right? Right???!!

“Please, don’t feel pressured to explain that joke.” 

“Fuck you, I’m still proud.” 

“Ah, now  _ there’s _ something your mom’s never said to you.” 

“You are such an asshole,” Sungjin laughed loudly. 

“You’re  _ both _ assholes.” 

Jae’s head whipped to the direction of the voice, directly in front of him. 

The resident emo: Brian! He must be having a great time now, under this gloomy weather, dark clouds crowding the sky. Isn’t this basically his aesthetic? 

With mischief brewing in his eyes, Jae hovered his head above the crook of Brian’s neck and whispered, “Hi, partner!” 

Honestly, Brian was perfectly content keeping his back to the rest of the Friends crew. (It baffled him why he’d actually said yes to this,  _ by the way _ .) His eyes were trained blankly on the field as they followed the ball, seeing everything yet nothing at all. 

But he suddenly felt fingers jab at his ribcage, and his neck was twisting around angrily before he could stop himself.  _ I swear to- SHIT! _

Much more suddenly than anticipated, Brian came face to face with Jae, with only a few centimeters to spare. 

Jae’s smile was wiped clean off his face, his mouth held in an unintentional pucker from the surprised “oh!” that escaped him. 

Brian peeled his gaze from the lips he had practically almost crashed into and, for the briefest moment, the two made eye-contact; Brian flinched back and shoved Jae away using a palm right over his face. 

_ Well, that was  _ almost _ a fucking disaster. _

Regardless, Jae didn’t seem too fazed and laughed smoothly, teasingly. Or so it seemed?

\----------

Things weren’t looking too hot on the other side of our maknae Dowoon either, where Sungjin was trying, and failing, to make animated conversation with Jiwoo. 

He tried commenting on the players of the game, but it was hard for her to keep up since she  _ was _ still new and hardly knew anyone. Though she hummed in acknowledgement at each name he mentioned, she frankly had no idea to whom he was really referring.

He spoke to her about his own soccer team. The official new season had apparently just started! Sungjin enthusiastically praised all his teammates and explained some basic rules to her. Jiwoo nodded along and frequently smiled, but it was difficult to tell if she was actually engaged or merely being polite. 

At this point, Sungjin was just thanking anyone listening to his pathetic thoughts for his charisma, because he (and his pride) would not be able to handle any more awkwardness than this.

_ This is the shittiest paradox ever. What am I supposed to do if I don’t know her and want to make conversation, but don’t have anything worthwhile to say  _ because  _ I don’t know her?! _

It was for no fault in Sungjin’s demeanor that Jiwoo was distracted. She had anticipated this day ever since Jae confirmed that Brian would be tagging along. 

Unlike Sungjin, whose body language reflected an undivided focus on her, Jiwoo was facing the field, using only her eyes and face to express attention. But she certainly made sure to remain conscious of the position of her arms, the way her legs were crossed, her posture- anything Brian could see. 

Though she tried to focus on Sungjin’s valiant attempts at conversation, her eyes were flickering. She appreciated his commentary, but she had bigger plans for that evening. 

She felt Brian jolt next to her. Not consciously registering whether Sungjin was speaking or not, she immediately turned to look at him, and _was he... blushing?_ _He’s so cute!_

“Brian-ah, your cheeks are red! Are you cold? It’s pretty chilly out here…”

Brian mumbled something about being fine, and self-consciously raised his black turtleneck over his chin. 

“Yo,” Jae interrupted, “my ears are about to freeze off and it looks like it’s about to fuckin’ rain. Great day y’all picked for this.”

Jiwoo tilted her head back, smiling: “No one forced you to come, Jaehyungie.”

“That’s true, but how would you be having any fun at all if I, the very essence and life of the party, hadn’t come?”

“Yes, it would actually be really easy. Effortless.” 

Everyone turned to look at Dowoon in surprise, Jae holding his hand over his heart dramatically. 

The offense was unrelatable to everyone else, since Jiwoo was holding her stomach from laughing so violently, and Sungjin was cackling. Wonpil chuckled and gave a congratulatory pat on the sophomore’s back while Brian scoffed.

Dowoon looked down but smiled a little despite himself. 

Seeing this, even Jae’s eyes twinkled with inexplicable fondness for the youngster.

And so, slowly but surely, the game progressed. The atmosphere lifted. There was conversation going around despite the cheers and loud sounds of buzzers and scoreboards and whatnot. Be it homework, classes, gossip, or genuine excitement regarding the peaks and valleys of the match, they found topics to entertain themselves.

“FOUL! That was a fucking foul! That little twat, why isn’t he calling it?!” 

“Jae, stop yelling, it wasn’t a foul.”

“But-”

“The player just took a dive to try to make it look like a foul. She tried to play the referee.”

“...”

“...”

“...Well shit I’d have given her the foul then, she worked hard for that fall.”

Sungjin sighed.

“Good job, Annie, you would have totally fooled me!”

\----------

The players were running everywhere across the field. At one moment, Haewon would be near the penalty arc, but just a second later Miyoung would be in her place and Haewon was at the halfway line. There were small signals too, exchanged between players in the milliseconds as they ran past each other. 

Single-word orders were called out, and though only Sungjin and Dowoon (as soccer players themselves) could understand their meaning, it was fascinating to watch the communication amongst the players. The fluidity of their understanding. A perfect code of microexpressions learned so well by each of them that no more than a look was needed to relay a message. 

They seemed to know each other in a way that even surpassed the confines of the soccer field.

Was this what it meant to be a team?

Dare I say… friends?

\----------

It had been maybe twenty minutes until someone wanted a drink, and only a few seconds until three other people agreed. 

Wonpil, ever the gracious angel that he was, offered to go get drinks for everyone. As he was getting up… 

“Oh, I’ll come with you! I’ve been aching to stretch my legs,” Jiwoo announced, jumping up from her seat and already maneuvering over Brian. 

Wonpil’s eyes instinctively landed on Sungjin. 

He sat back down with a little too much force, feigning a yelp of pain (and startling Dowoon). “Ah, noona, I think my leg is cramped, I doubt I can walk on it. Sungjin-hyung, why don’t you, uh… why don’t you go with noona instead?” 

Something really  was  hurting now, but it wasn’t his leg.

Sungjin twisted around a little too quickly in his seat. He stared at Wonpil wide eyed for a split second, then rose to his feet. How could he possibly pass this opportunity up? That little genius cupid, Wonpil.

“Aww, hope your leg feels better! I’ll get you a giant cup of soda,” Jiwoo promised. She held his shoulder encouragingly before giving it a final pat and announcing, “Let’s go, Sungjin!”

Sungjin’s charms quadrupled as he smiled at her. He turned around while they walked off, and spared Wonpil a gleeful look and a thumbs-up. 

Wonpil sighed.

He faced his friends:

“So, hyung, I heard you’re a really talented musician.”

Jae exclaimed, “Wonpil-ah, how kind of you to say, I’m truly humbled-”

“I was talking to Brian-hyung,” Wonpil laughed 

“ _ Wow _ . Wow, okay then,” Jae retorted.

“I’m not your hyung. We’re in the same grade,” Brian interjected with his same monotonous, gentle (?) voice.

“Oh, right! Sorry, I just keep forgetting you’re not older considering you’re so…” 

“Intimidating? Menacing?” Jae offered.

“Uh, I was going to say mature.” 

Brian looked at Wonpil oddly, but said nothing.  _ That was a… much nicer word to use than what I anticipated. Jae, that absolute shit, I’ll show you menacing. _ Brian snorted quietly. 

“It’s already 7:15 and the game’s about to end,” Brian reminded, turning abruptly to Jae.

Jae looked clueless. It took a few seconds for it all to fall into place:

“Oh yeah, I forgot you only came so we could go work on the project after the game.”  

Brian looked at Jae, as if saying, ‘Well, yeah, why else would I fucking come?’ 

“Don’t worry, I can drive us to my place after we’re done and we can study for as long as you want.”

“Oh. Cool. Thmanksmhdd.” 

“I’m sorry, what was that?” Jae couldn’t believe his ears. Was that a kind-of ‘thank you’?? 

Brian rolled his eyes. 

“Come on, I really didn’t hear.” Oh, but he really did. He just hadn’t recorded it. YET.

Sigh. “I said, ‘cool.’”

“No, the thing after!”

“A-ha! So you did hear.”

“Did not!” Jae was grumbling like a little kid. He resorted to very annoyingly tapping a rhythm on Brian’s back, as a form of persuasion.

Brian was not amused. “Hey- stop that.” He turned around, slapping Jae’s hands away, but the elder just kept at it, using any available surface on Brian’s body to complete his tune.

“He really is just gonna keep doing that until you give in,” Wonpil informed Brian, whose skull was being used as an instrument now. Maybe Wonpil snickered too; it was kinda funny when someone else was Jae’s victim.

“Fine. Fine!” 

Jae finally pulled away. He pressed the record button…

“ _ Ahem _ . Th-”

Just a few more letters…

“ank-” 

“We’re back!!” Jiwoo’s voice echoed through the air, effectively cutting off Brian. Jae glared at Jiwoo furiously. “Whoa, what the hell’s up with you?” she asked him, laughing.

“I was  _ this _ ,” he held his index finger and thumb as close together as he could, “close to getting Brian to say his first proper ‘thank you!’ Now all I have is ‘thank.’”

“That’s practically a thank you.”

“It’s not the same,” Jae murmured.

“He’s already said it to me once, so it wouldn’t be the first time at least.” 

“What the fuck, is everyone a traitor?”

Brian quietly swiped up his drink from inside the plastic bag brought back. He looked at the girl with a tired expression, “It was probably sarcastic.”

She winked. “Still counts in my book!” 

Unfortunately, Brian was already on his phone. At least he had looked at and spoken to her this time! She reached into the bag, picking up a jumbo slushie and handing it to Wonpil:

“Here you go, Wonpilie,” she presented with a face adorned with a pretty eye-smile. “Do you feel better?” Her smile was so beautiful.  _ She _ was beautiful. 

“It still hurts a little, noona.”

That piqued Sungjin’s attention. After handing (throwing) Jae his drink, he turned to Wonpil and offered gently, “Can we do anything to help?”

“I’ll be fine, hyung!” He’ll be fine. “Don’t worry about it, please.”

Sungjin smiled, as if he was reassured; Wonpil smiled too.

A loud buzzer jolted everyone out of their motions. Dowoon looked like a deer in headlights, mid-sip with his lips around his banana milk straw, while Jae finally stopped arguing (pretty one-sidedly) with Brian about whether the world we live in is a simulation. 

The girls on the field were thoroughly soaked with sweat, and the humid thickness bubbling in the air certainly wasn’t helping. Their faces were red, most girls crouched over and leaning their palms against their knees for support. 

The game was over. 

Sungjin looked like a proud dad when he stood up, hollering loudly with his fists raised to the sky. 

They looked at the scoreboard. The home team won! 

Quickly, everyone joined his cheers. Jae grabbed Dowoon and shook him excitedly, much to Dowoon’s disapproval, and Jiwoo high-fived everyone (picking up Brian’s hand to do it herself when he refused). Wonpil selfishly took the chance to hug Sungjin (totally casually  _ of course _ ), who reciprocated and ruffled the junior’s hair. 

And then, as if by predestined timing, it began to rain. The game was definitely drawn to a close. 

The downpour began with a few drizzles at first, giving everyone enough time to open umbrellas and take their leave. Quickly, our group headed for the canteen’s extended roof, which provided considerable protection.

Eventually, the heavy rains came down. Puddles were already forming and it hadn’t even been 10 minutes since the clouds had opened their floodgates. 

An unexpected chill settled around them, causing Dowoon’s teeth to chatter uncontrollably. 

Well, December had certainly arrived. Winter wasn’t wasting any time to introduce itself.

Most of the adults had been careful enough to bring umbrellas, and the players were probably safely inside the locker room by now. So it was, more or less, just our gang that was doomed.

Oh! But wait! Wonpil was pulling out something from his bag.

Could it really be…

Umbrellas!!! 

Jae gazed solemnly into Wonpil’s eyes as he said, “I love you.” 

“Hyung, I only brought two of them. I brought one for myself and an extra one for Su-” cough “-someone else who wouldn’t have one.”

“But  _ none  _ of us have one.”

“Well I thought you’d all maybe bring one along just in case!” Wonpil had to slightly yell. The patter of the rain, heavy and thick, quite literally drowned out most other sounds.

“You overestimate our intelligence and preparedness. We aren’t all as responsible as you,” Jiwoo chuckled and patted his hair.

Wonpil shrugged. He looked around, trying to formulate a plan of distribution for the umbrellas.

“Okay. Jae-hyung, you and Brian can have one,” he paused as he handed them an electric blue umbrella, “since you’re both going off together.” 

“Sweeeeet, thanks Wonpilie! Hyung won’t forget this,” Jae said cutely as he sent a flying kiss and various heart symbols.

“Wait wait, what?” Jiwoo interrupted. “Where are you going?”

“Work,” Brian said curtly and began to walk off, pulling Jae forcefully by his bicep. He stopped abruptly though, twisting around briefly to bow to Wonpil gratefully from under  _ his _ umbrella, then continued along. 

“Bye guys!” Jae screamed backwards, tripping over his own feet at the sheer power of Brian’s pull.

Through the blurriness of the cascading rains, Jiwoo could still make out their retreating figures. Her eyes followed them until the blue hues of the umbrella and those of the rain became indistinguishable.

(At one particularly dramatic misstep a few minutes later, Brian instinctively steadied Jae with a quick grip on the other’s waist, and released him as soon as it was safe to do so. “Be careful,” he said passively, still looking ahead.)

Wonpil fidgeted with the handle of his second, and last, umbrella. 

“Here you go, noona,” he extended, “y-you and Sungjin-hyung can use this one. The parking lot’s really far away. Hyung, you can walk noona to her car and then go to yours so neither of you get caught in the rain.”

“What about you? You need an umbrella too!” Sungjin coaxed.

“Have you seen the jacket I’m wearing? It’s practically a fortress it’s so thick. It has a hood and everything, I’ll be fine!”

“Oh, well, thank you, Wonpilie! That’s very kind of you. But I don’t have a ride,” she spoke wearily. “I was just going to take the bus, but…” 

All four of them jointly turned to look at the rain falling incessantly on the ground.

Sungjin stammered out excitedly, “I can drive you home!”  _ Okay, CALM. _ “I mean, yeah, I could drive you home.”

“Oh, really? Would you? Thanks!”

Sungjin looked like he was soaring way above the stormy clouds. “Wonpil-ah, I could drive you too, if you want.”

The junior’s eyes sparkled, but he promptly stopped himself. He should remember his duty, as a  _ friend _ and  _ confidante _ . 

“That’s alright, hyung. I’m getting picked up soon anyway,” he assured. “Get home safely, both of you!” Wonpil saw Sungjin’s blinding smile as he mouthed “thank you” to the younger.

“You too!” they said in harmony while walking off, huddled beneath the red umbrella. Wonpil clapped his hands awkwardly, trying to not watch them for too long.

The raindrops, burdened by gravity, were falling just as hard as before, and there didn’t seem to be an end to it. With no umbrellas and two people left, Wonpil turned to his remaining teammate.

“Dowoon-ah, I’m so sorry that I left you without an umbrella. The ones I brought were barely big enough for two people.”

“I’m getting picked up too, so…” Dowoon said. “Don’t need one.”

“What? You’ll get soaked! You can’t just walk around without a hood or anything,” Wonpil chastised. “Are your parents waiting for you by car?”

“Something like that…” 

“Well, um, the car would still be far off. Getting to the road from here would take at least 5, 10 minutes and you’ll definitely get sick.” Wonpil thought for a second.

Bingo!

“Here,” he said, shedding his hooded jacket, “take this. It’s obviously not waterproof but it’s thick enough to keep you dry till you get to the car!” He urged it into Dowoon’s arms.

“I don’t need it. I’m fine,” Dowoon dismissed. The faux shearling jacket lied limp in his hands.

“You won’t be once you step into this freezing rain. You’re already cold. Take it, take it,” he entreated. “Besides, I have another jacket in my bag! I get cold easily, you know.”

Dowoon hesitated.

“Um… you can return it to me, like everyone else will return the umbrellas,” Wonpil encouraged.

The sophomore didn’t look to be responsive, so Wonpil took the jacket and wrapped it around Dowoon’s shoulders himself, bundling him up and pulling the hood over his black hair.

“There,” Wonpil smiled, looking at the fluffy boy in front of him. The texture of the jacket made him look like a puppy. 

_ Choco! He looks like a lighter version of Choco! _

“Off you go now!” He pushed Dowoon (gently), waving to him. Dowoon turned around multiple times while he moved dazedly. He found his pace soon enough.

Minutes passed, and Wonpil was now far hidden behind buildings and greenery. Dowoon stepped into the black limousine confused, but warm and dry despite the flooding rains.  _ Huh, he was right. This jacket is pretty cozy. _

\----------

Wonpil should be proud of himself. He was a great matchmaker. A great friend! 

He stood under the shield of the canteen, holding himself in all the bareness of his short-sleeve shirt and jeans. 

His eyes grazed over the inside of his bag: empty. 

He reached his hand up and felt the wetness of his hair; he’d tried hard to style it (for once) earlier that day. The frost of winter rains was even harsher in a state like this, when winds swept the cascading droplets in various directions. Sometimes they were swayed hard enough to reach Wonpil’s face, despite his cover. 

He made sure to wait at least 10 minutes after everyone had gone, securing his lie. The walk home would be torturous. He also didn’t doubt the sniffling that would surely ensue from the thirty minutes in the rain. But maybe he’d get used to it somewhere along the way. Maybe the cold would eventually stop being freezing, and just be  _ chilly _ . Maybe the rain would stop beating down on him, and just be  _ tapping _ . Maybe his clothes would stop being uncomfortably soggy, and just be  _ damp _ .

Maybe he could get acclimated to a lot of things.

Either way, he didn’t really have a choice. 

Bracing himself, he stepped beyond the bubble of the canteen’s protection. He was exposed, and he had to keep moving forward. The unforgiving cold froze even Wonpil’s sigh. His breath condensed into small clouds, and it turned into a small sort of entertainment for Wonpil to watch it puff out in front of him. 

Glistening puddles on the ground engulfed his sneakers, soaking them through to his socks. Even his eyelashes were dripping. The very things meant to protect his eyes from liquid were now soaked too.  _ Thanks for nothing, I guess _ , he huffed.

Wonpil’s steps were heavy, and maybe it was because of the added weight of the water absorbing into every inch of his soft clothing. He knew it was going to be hard, but he’d get used to it, he had to.

He hoped it won’t take too long; he didn’t know how long he’d last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm sad why must i do this to wonpil... THE ANGST HAS A MIND OF ITS OWN I'M SORRY


	8. Blissful, unintended ignorance

“Get in, loser. We’re going shopping.”

Wonpil’s head swiveled to the left, the voice a rude awakening from his daydreams. His eyes greeted a boy with a lopsided grin looking at him from the driver’s seat of a (slowly) moving Jeep.

“Actually, school. We’re going to school.”

Wonpil mimicked the car, gradually slowing his pace before coming to a stop. “Jae-hyung, what are you doing here?” 

“What does it look like? I’m gonna drive us to school,” the older boy said, winking.

“You know, you  _ really _ don’t have to do that. I’m  _ perfectly  _ fine with getting to school late. Happy, even.”

“Sorry, kiddo. Gotta keep on that grind.”

Jae reached over from his seat, pushing the passenger’s door open for his friend.

Wonpil pouted at the door for a few seconds and groaned as he finally stepped into the car. He buckled his seat belt, though he contemplated against it so that maybe he’d die before making it to class (Don’t listen to Wonpil, he’s an idiot; safety first). Even so… “Hey, thanks for driving me.”

“At your service,” Jae beamed and bowed his head. The younger rolled his eyes, a smile yet finding its way on his lips.

“So, hyung, what happened with Brian? After the game”

Jae laughed humorlessly. “Oh yeah, little bastard wanted me to drive him home this morning for  _ no _ reason so I had to wake up at the asscrack of dawn to accommodate him,” he said plainly. He continued when Wonpil’s confusion became apparent: “He slept over last night.”

Wonpil’s lucky his neck didn’t snap when he whipped around fiercely to stare at Jae. His narrowed eyes widened after a thought came to mind. “...You didn’t.”

“Didn’t what?” Jae defended innocently,  _ too _ innocently.

“Why would  _ Brian _ …?” Confused. Also alarmed.

“Hmm?” 

“You- you- you-” Wonpil was fumbling for words.

He wiggled his eyebrows. “We might have slept together.”

Wonpil choked on his own spit.

“In the same  _ room _ , you noob,” Jae finished, erupting in hearty laughter. “We passed out while working and woke up this morning. Oh my god, that was so funny, Wonpilie. Thank you. I’ll give you a ride anytime if it means more quality entertainment.”

Whatever snappy response Wonpil was going to mutter was cut off by a rough cough, startling Jae.

“Nevermind, this car is for germ-free passengers only. Get out.”

Wonpil almost suffocated while croaking out an offended  _ Hey! _

“Well, the human body has trillions of bacteria living in it so technically you can’t be in here either,” he informed as soon as his cough settled down.

“Gross. Nerd,” quipped Jae, but his brows were furrowed in worry. “Did you get sick or something? You seemed fine yesterday at the game,” he wondered, averting his eyes briefly from the road to glance at Wonpil, when he noticed something on his hand. “Whoa, and what the fuck is  _ that _ ? Are you wearing a fucking splint? What the shit happened to you in 12 hours?! When did you even go to the doctor?!”

Jae was hollering by now, mostly out of urgency because he needed answers. Now.

“Ah, it’s nothing, just a fracture,” Wonpil assured, and instinctively covered his wrist by pulling his sweater over it. “And I’m only sniffling! The cough was coincidental.”

Jae made an incredulous face. “ _ Just _ a fracture _?! _ Are you joking?”

“It’s really okay, it doesn’t hurt as badly as it did before.”

“Is ‘before’ referring to 20 minutes ago Because I just saw you last night with your cute little wrist intact. And now it’s broken!”

“It’s  _ fractured _ -”

“Kim Wonpil,” Jae began with a wary squint (God, he wished he wasn’t driving right now so he could stare Wonpil down), “you didn’t walk home yesterday, did you? In the pouring damn rain?”

“No! No no no no I just fell down the stairs. When I got home! My sneakers were slippery from the rain and I slipped.”

“Why were you wearing your shoes inside the house? And dirty shoes, at that…”

“I really needed to pee.”

Jae opened his mouth only to close it right back up. He settled on gripping the steering wheel tighter. 

Wonpil was acting suspicious, but Jae knew pushing him was not the way to go. Sure, Wonpil could be a shitty liar, but he’d hold onto that shitty lie forever if he had to. 

Tell Wonpil a secret, and he’ll carry it to his grave. Loyal bastard.

Silence, not awkward but still unfamiliar, surrounded them for a while. From his peripheral vision, Jae could see the younger gnawing at his lip nervously and sniffling. The lower half of his nose was stained a vague shade of red.

“You’re okay though, right?”

“Yes, hyungie!”

_ He’s trying to butter me up. This kid, seriously… _

Jae sighed, right as he pulled up into the designated parking space at school. Pushing the gear shift into place, he and Wonpil stepped out. Before they parted, however, Jae hugged Wonpil, maybe a little tighter than usual.

“You clumsy idiot,” the older boy teased, tousling Wonpil’s hair.

\----------

_ “C-can you please help me? This is the emergency room, right? I think something’s wrong with my hand…”  _

_ “Of course, what’s your name, sweetie? Can you tell me what happened?” _

_ “My name’s Kim Wonpil. I was walking home and I- I couldn’t see much in the rain and I fell. Um… I tried to break the fall with my hand but my wrist- it got bent all the way back, I think. I-I-It hurts so much, my fingers are tingling.” _

_ “And when did this happen?” _

_ “What… What time is it now? My phone died…” _

_ “My, you’re having a rough day, aren’t you? It’s almost 8:30, hon.” _

_ “It must have happened about 40 minutes ago, then.” He cradled his arm, wincing as tears pricked his eyes. “M-my parents aren’t home so I had to walk here, I was almost home when it happened.”  _

_ “Well, you came at a good time, Wonpil-ah. A doctor can see you right away. Let’s get you wrapped up in a nice warm blanket first, and get that wrist checked out.” _

_ “Thank you, thank you!” _

_ “Oh my! Sweetheart, you’re bleeding at the knees, too! Didn’t you feel it? _

_ “I…guess I didn’t.”  _

_ She looked at him curiously. “That storm must have been hard to endure. Come on, we’ll take care of you,” she smiled. “You worked hard.” _

\----------

“Hyung.”

“...”

“Hyung!”

“Huh?” 

“Are you listening?”

“Yeah.”

The younger crossed his arms. “What did I say, then?”

“Uh… you said to trash all the notes we’ve been making every day for the past week because you suddenly want to work in a different key. After pages of work.”

“I did not fucking say to trash the work! Just revise it.”

“So, trash it.”

“Whatever, I don’t know how you heard me since you’re clearly not paying attention.”

Jae rubbed his hands over his face. He was so tired. “I know, I know, I’m sorry. I’m just thinking about a friend of mine.”

“And  _ I’m _ thinking about our project. You know, the massive one that we’re partners for,” Brian complained with disapproval pouring from his tongue.

“You don’t have to be such a Slytherin, Brian-ah. People worry for their friends. It’s called having a heart.”

“You fucking Gryffindors and your friendships. They only make you weak and vulnerable. And get  _ F’s on your Music Theory projects _ .”

Jae snorted. 

Teasing Brian- it had become his favorite pastime, mostly because even though Brian looked ready to snap his neck at any second, it didn’t feel hostile? It was like banter. Friendly? Maybe that was just Jae and his instigator tendencies.

He just  _ loved _ seeing the junior’s eyes turn into the slightest crescents when he couldn’t possibly deny that Jae’s joke was funny. He  _ loved _ when their hands would touch and he’d get startled by how weirdly warm Brian’s hands are comparative to his coldness. It wasn’t weird to think that, right? 

Just bro stuff. Yep.

“Yes,  _ mom _ .”

“Shut the fuck up and focus before I shove this pencil down your throat.”

“Oh. Kinky,” Jae said, raising his eyebrows suggestively. 

Brian sounded an exhausted sigh. He looked around the room: much to his chagrin, too many witnesses. He’d have to postpone the murder. 

Though... someone notable was missing.

“Have you- oh, by the way, this does not mean that you are allowed to get completely sidetracked again,” Brian clarified before proceeding. “But have you seen the sophomore kid? Dowoon?”

“Ooh, you didn’t hear, I presume.”

“Hear what?” 

“He-”

\----------

“-got hit during a game.”

Wonpil’s eyes bulged at the reveal. Images of gruesome sports injuries, protruding bones and twisted limbs flashed through Wonpil’s brain. Sungjin didn’t waste time to continue: 

“I didn’t see it happen since I was preoccupied playing defense at the time, but Youngjae said this asshole from the other team kicked Dowoon square on the shin while he was running. Went straight for him. Dowoon’s leg isn’t broken, thank God, but the cut he got was pretty nasty. He’s in the hospital right now, since he had to get stitches.”

“That’s so horrible! How is he?” Wonpil asked eagerly, his heart clenching.

“He honestly took it so well. I still can’t tell whether he was really calm or just in shock. But it felt like I was the only one panicking in the ambulance,” Sungjin laughed at the recent memory.

“You went with him to the hospital?” 

“Of course! I’m the captain, and he’s my responsibility to take care of, too,” he said with proud simplicity, and brushed his fingers through his silky hair.

“That’s,” Wonpil paused, looking for words that wouldn’t betray him, “really nice of you, hyung.” 

Sungjin beamed at Wonpil. “Which reminds me! How’s your hand feeling, Wonpilie? I know it’s only been a couple of days, but…”

There went the butterflies fluttering around in Wonpil’s abdomen, banging at his chest. It really didn’t take much to rile them up, those little shits. “It’s getting better. I wish the bones would heal faster.” He whined then, tiredly, “Why are there so many bones in the human wrist anyway?!”

“Well, because the multiple joins between the bones help your hand achieve a greater range of motion-  _ and _ you didn’t mean that literally, okay I’ll shut up.”

Wonpil giggled.  _ That was cute. That was really cute. _ Cue puppy-love sigh.

“God, I’m losing my charisma. I’m turning into a clueless loser middle-schooler,” Sungjin whined.

“You’re as charming as ever, hyung!” Wonpil coughed, forcing down his bluntness. “Keep the awkwardness, it makes you more relatable, you know? Enough that the rest of us can feel comparable to your highness.”

Sungjin laughed loudly. “Oh, I just remembered! Okay, update. So so so so sooooooo,” Sungjin began excitedly, “even though Jiwoo and I aren’t at the texting level yet, sometimes she’ll make small talk in the hallway. Voluntarily! Other times I do this weird hand shit that has no place being called a wave, but not always. Taking the long way to my 7th period class is so worth it.”

Wonpil’s smile didn’t fade, and he wondered whether it’s always felt this heavy on his face. “I told you she’d warm up to you! It’s kind of impossible for anyone not to… Hah, isn’t it a little counterproductive to make a whole round of the school though, hyung?”

“She’s worth it,” Sungjin answered with a shrug. He let his jaw rest in the palm of his hand as an airy sigh left his upturned lips. Sungjin’s eyes were almost looking at Wonpil, obviously unfocused.

A silly part of Wonpil wanted to pretend Sungjin  _ was  _ looking at him with that lovestruck expression, pretend it was him Sungjin was thinking about while his eyes sparkled with the reckless glimmer of young adoration.  Admiration peeked through the crinkle of his eyes, and Desire clung to his lips desperately. There was Passion, fluttering with the bat of his lashes, while Shyness hid behind his rosy blush when Hope shined a little too brightly through his dilated pupils. 

It was a sight Wonpil regretfully hoped he’d never forget. Wonpil knew he was being trusted exclusively to be shown this side of Sungjin. It was more than he could say for Jae, or any of Sungjin’s friends (probably), for that matter. Shouldn’t that be enough?

It should, it  _ could _ , if Wonpil didn’t feel like a mere convenience. 

He couldn’t help but feel that he’d been trusted because he was convenient; he had became close with Jiwoo, had come to be adored by her, like a child, in a way that no one else had. Coincidentally. He had a special relationship with her that could have easily been bequeathed to any other person. Wonpil himself wasn’t special, but rather it was the link he offered. Wonpil was trusted because he was a connection to her, a bridge- not the destination. He was a means to an end for Sungjin. 

And all Wonpil wanted to do was tear himself down.

Though something stopped him every time his heart ached with the same breakage as his wrist. 

No, his heart wasn’t broken, it was fractured. It still beat loudly when Sungjin told him he’d visit Wonpil after graduation, come back to the same spot in the library and expect to find the then-senior Wonpil working diligently. His heart nearly leapt out of his chest when they’d hugged on Sunday. Warm blood still coursed through his body, sending shivers down to his toes when Sungjin smiled for just a few moments longer than usual. 

A broken heart couldn’t do that, could it? Like his fractured wrist, Wonpil’s injured heart should make things harder, not impossible. 

But “should”, like Wonpil knew all too well, did not equate to “will”.

\----------

Gym was as dreadful as always. No surprise there, honestly.

Team 6 was down 2 people, though Dowoon and Wonpil’s absence wouldn’t be permanent. True, practicing with almost half of the members gone was practically useless, but let’s not kid ourselves into thinking public school gym class was really  _ that _ advanced anyhow. 

Wonpil was sat in his unofficially official spot at the gym’s corner, expectantly watching his teammates try to practice, fail, and (of course) start dicking around. 

That is, until Coach’s whistle inevitably made its way ‘round to their part of the court and blew repeatedly to keep Brian from launching the basketball straight at Sungjin’s head. 

It had been almost-but-not-quite two weeks since Wonpil’s accident, and Dowoon still was not back. 

It worried Wonpil, and  _ no _ , it wasn’t because he wanted his jacket back. He hoped Dowoon would hurry back soon, just to confirm he was alright. Wonpil supposed no one’s really ever in a rush to get back to school, though. 

By word of mouth, just about the whole school learned about Dowoon. His already established popularity hadn’t helped at all to keep a low profile. 

It was a no-brainer to assume that Dowoon wouldn’t be happy, since he was recluse enough  _ without _ the exciting news riling up everyone’s attention on him even more. His “manly” reaction to the injury practically made him into a national hero in school. Superman  _ who _ ?

But it was always curious, that amid such a blatant following, Dowoon was so dismissive of it. Opposed to it, even. It would cross people’s minds -it was bound to- that there might be more to Dowoon than meets the eye.

Sungjin was going over dribbling drills like the hard-working athlete he was, while, on the court furthest from the Coach, Jae was showing Brian how to do a layup (showoff). 

In this demonstration, Jae approached the right side of the hoop by taking large steps, jumping much higher than expected when he reached it. His vertically outstretched hand eased the ball through the hoop with little difficulty. 

And Brian… Brian was standing nearby, arms crossed over this chest and left hip jutting out, watching. 

Did he look bored? Perhaps. Was he engaged? Eh, looks like it. Are these answers too vague? Kind of. Brian as a concept was vague, okay.  _ You _ try to differentiate neutrality from slightly contemptful neutrality.

Jae motioned Brian closer. Brian, of course, did not do so until Jae stomped his foot a few times, snapping at the younger, like a pet, to come forth. As he positioned himself next to Brian, Jae held the other at the shoulders, having to maneuver him through the basic trajectory of the motion, from the starting position to the layup itself. 

“I have legs, you know,” Brian hissed at him and shooed his hands away.

“It’d be nice you used them, bitch,” shot back Jae.

At the whiff of a challenge, Brian dug his feet into the ground to stop himself abruptly. He crossed his arms and declared, “Make me.”

Jae grinned condescendingly, feeling more revitalized by the provocation than Brian had intended. 

One step later, and Jae was behind Brian, holding him at the waist on each side and his front, in its entirety, flush against Brian’s back. Jae urged his own legs forward, as if he were walking, prompting the younger’s legs to bend in command. Thus, he guided the body he was holding, like some sort of doll. Brian held his breath.

Jae was cackling loudly and making robot noises to accompany their humorously mechanical movements. They were nearing the hoop, miraculously without having fallen down, and Brian finally saw a light at the end of the tunnel. Salvation. An end to this torment.

Like always when it came to Jae, however, he was wrong. 

Jae tightened his grip on Brian’s midsection, and literally lifted him off the ground. He raised him quickly, maybe because his arms couldn’t handle a slow, graceful lift. Midair, Brian pondered the constancy of reality and the universe because  _ what the hell was happening? _ Jae dropped the black-haired boy back into their earlier position. His eloquent “yeet” rang in Brian’s ears.

“I really didn’t think I could do it, kinda thought I was gonna drop you,” Jae added, shaking the other boy back and forth triumphantly. His hands might have slipped down to Brian’s hips. His hands were warm. It felt a lot nicer than Brian would like to admit. That was a not-okay thought.

_ Alright. That’s it. _ Brian lifted his right foot, swinging it backwards into the elder’s shin.  _ Oops _ .

“Oh shit!” Jae released his grip in favor of holding his abused tibia. He bent over, hopping on one foot. From somewhere, he heard:

“What happened to you?”

He turned on the source, yelling, “What  _ happened _ to  _ me _ , you little gobl- Dowoonie!”

Brian, who was bent over laughing, looked up at that, too. 

There was Dowoon, in a large sweatshirt and basketball shorts which exposed the expansive gauze circling his leg. The leg was balanced on the ball of his foot, probably to reduce strain on it. 

He was holding his elbow, with a vaguely embarrassed look on his face.

“Oh, you’re back,” Brian observed while sobering up.

“Oh! You’re back!!” chirped Jae. “Hey, Sungjin- Dowoon’s back!” he screamed.

Sungjin immediately jogged over, looking a lot more refined than anyone should look while doing that awkward half-run. “Dowoon-ah! Why didn’t you tell me you were coming back? How are you feeling?” He clapped the youngest on the back, throwing Dowoon off balance and making him stumble. “Sorry.”

“I’m okay. I’ll have to sit out for a while…” Dowoon said.

“That’s fantastic!”

Dowoon stared at Jae.

“I meant,  _ oh _ , that’s  _ horrible _ . But Wonpilie’s sitting out too, you two can hang out! You know, have some bro bonding time,” Jae elaborated, giving a thumbs up. “Bronding time.”

Dowoon looked uncomfortable. 

“He’s over there, kid.” Sungjin pointed to the gym’s corner, where Wonpil was sitting with his knees pulled up to his chest and was drawing a pattern onto the polished floor with his finger. (Did that look as pitiful as it sounded?)

Dowoon wordlessly moved toward him as the two eldest of the group waved him off. 

“Cute kid,” one of them cooed absentmindedly.

“I know right,” agreed the other. Jae leaned his head on Sungjin’s shoulder, and they both sighed watching Dowoon distance himself more and more.

Brian looked between them, cringing. “Grandmas.”

\----------

Wonpil plopped down with uncontrollable force next to Dowoon, rubbing his butt in regret.  _ Nothing good ever happens in this gym, I swear. _ Dowoon didn’t seem to react, and kept his eyes trained on his hands while they fidgeted. 

Truthfully, it got a little… stiff with the younger. 

Wonpil didn’t know how to interact with him, mostly because it somehow felt like he was  _ bothering _ Dowoon by even talking to him. Not out of annoyance, but Wonpil opted for staying quiet out of pity. Dowoon just really seemed like he wasn’t up for speaking most times they met.

It was common for Wonpil to wish for charisma like Jae’s. Socialize effortlessly and break the ice, even if Jae would use a bulldozer to break the ice when he really could use a gentle pick. 

Dowoon was wearing his earbuds, as usual. Maybe Wonpil could ask what he was listening to? No, that definitely sounded like something a lame stepdad asks when he wants to connect with his teenage son.  _ Yikes _ . 

Wonpil found himself looking at Dowoon while rummaging his mind for something to say. How long had he been doing that? Had Dowoon noticed? 

Admittedly, the boy had pretty features, and it wasn’t hard to understand why he was so famed around the school for his looks. His even temper only emphasized the balance of his beauty, making it all the more striking and cool. The subtle undercut of his hair brought attention to his messily curly black hair, and his fair skin created a delicate contrast between the two tones. Jesus, what did this guy’s  _ parents _ look like for him to have ended up like this?

Thinking about handsomeness as a concept always brought up one friend in mind. Great, he was turning into those sappy lead characters in dramas that couldn’t even look at a speckle of dust without being reminded of their ex. Just  _ great _ .

Wonpil turned away shamefully, and did his best to not turn and look at Sungjin during the trio’s practice. Now Wonpil was the one distantly fidgeting with his hands. 

Dealing with his feelings hadn’t really gotten any easier. It had been just a couple of classes since Dowoon had returned to school and began sitting out with Wonpil, but it meant Wonpil couldn’t even obsessively trace Sungjin’s name on the ground anymore. Granted, Dowoon probably wouldn’t even notice it if he did, but Wonpil still felt too exposed. 

Still, in a strange way, Wonpil wanted to talk. About his problems, what was going on. Choco was probably sick of him crying and moping around at home anyway. 

He just craved validation. Wonpil was so desperate he’d even settle for a listening ear. That’s it. Just someone to listen to him and hug him and wrap him in a blanket and kiss his forehead. No advice, just listen. 

Maybe he should break another limb so he could go to the hospital again. That’d be nice.

Okay, that was a little dramatic. It hurt so much though, maybe the hospital  _ was _ the right place for him. It hurt physically, emotionally, mentally. 

Why was that? Why did it feel like his chest was being clawed at with talons whenever he looked at Sungjin now? And why did Sungjin’s smile sew up the wounds, only to rip them open again at the mention of his love? Where did Aphrodite go wrong with him???

Wonpil sighed. He didn’t know who to possibly go to for comfort. Every candidate was either too close to him and would ask too many questions, or too far in relation to even be capable of sitting down to listen long enough. The junior turned in Dowoon’s direction, overwhelmed and tired by thoughts. He froze.

That’s it.

Dowoon.

Dowoon?

Wonpil simultaneously reveled in his epiphany and wanted to punch himself for the blatant stupidity of this consideration. But Dowoon was  _ here _ . They weren’t close, but they saw each other often. They were alone at the sidelines every day, just like this. Knowing his attitude, Dowoon wouldn’t many questions, if any, but he’d listen- he kind of had to. Wonpil… he could leave out names, talk more about his feelings than the people. Dowoon could be his listening ear.

_ No _ , he couldn’t put that burden on Dowoon.  _ Wonpil, no _ . _ He’s a kid, he probably doesn’t even want to listen to you. He doesn’t  _ know  _ you. This is just fucking sad. He’d sit there silently and suffer while you go on and on and on and on and... _

But he could bring it up just sometimes? Wonpil would get to release his feelings, at least in part, and Dowoon wouldn’t know the details. Maybe they could even become friends like this.

It was idiotic and risky, but could you blame Wonpil? He wanted to be selfish, just this once. It had to be okay.

He sighed again, heavier and more melancholy than before.

“Are you okay?” Dowoon suddenly asked. Wonpil looked up in surprise and met his gaze. 

“What?”

“You sigh a lot,” he elaborated plainly.

“Actually,” Wonpil couldn’t tell if he’d regret this, “can I tell you something?” 

He hoped he wouldn’t.

Dowoon hummed.

“Can you keep a secret?”

Dowoon sat up, absently directing his hands to pull out his earbuds. “Okay.”

“There’s someone I like. A lot. And, well... I’m helping them get the attention of the person they like… That person isn’t me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i told you guys it wasn't gonna be pretty IT HAS TO GET WORSE BEFORE IT GETS BETTER OKAY TRUST ME


	9. Unexplored territory

Jae held out another piece of day-old leftovers to his expectantly salivating dog. He chuckled, fondly watching his German Shepherd gobble up the meat.

“Coochie coochie coo~” he slurred, and extended his hand to pet the dog. Max, however, did not seem pleased with the action, defensively growling to protect his food from theft. “Even as I pet you the only thing you think of is food.”

Max made a huffing noise.

“You _are_ your father’s son!”

And despite desperate attempts to escape, Max was smothered with hugs from his owner.

The echoing sound of the doorbell startled them both. Jae looked at the clock excitedly and cupped Max’s face, wiggling it a little with happiness before he got up to greet his guest. He pulled the door open; there was Brian, shivering.

“Brian-ah! Long time no see! Seems like it was just a few days ago we were at the library working on the project.”

“That’s because it was a few days ago,” Brian corrected.

“Ah, yes.”

“Can I come in? It’s freezing…” He glanced beyond the door longingly.

“Wait, did your parents drop you off?” It was Jae’s turn to peek over Brian’s shoulder now. “Lemme say hi-!”

Brian pushed the taller male back with a shove at his chest. “Nope. Inside. Now.”

Jae yanked the door open to its full extent, urging the younger inside.

His house was spacious, but not cold or uninviting. The ceilings were high, a chandelier hanging elegantly over the entrance, washing the area in an off-white light and reflecting little rainbows. However, the whole house was littered with bookcases of different woods, patterned rugs, and casual furniture. It was an impressive and quirky house.

In an odd way, kind of like Jae.

It was the perfect blend of luxurious and cozy. It still startled Brian, though he’d been here many times now over the past several weeks, because his own house lacked this distinctive warmth. He took off his shoes and marvelled at the floor’s warmth, which soothed his frozen feet.

And right on time, Max came bounding over, practically throwing himself onto Brian. Licking him.

In one of those rare but entrancing moments, Brian was genuinely laughing, grinning ear to ear, thanks to the animated greeting. He didn’t even push Max away when the pet had forced him to the floor. He just lied there with a huge dog standing over his body while petting him lovingly:

“Hi, Max!”

Jae couldn’t interrupt, he didn’t really want to. Inexplicably, he felt content, his chest (his heart) tingling with affection. It gave him a disproportionate amount of joy knowing that _his_ precious Max and Brian got along. He wasn’t sure why, it simply did. Brian’s smile was so stunning it made Jae stop and stare, it was like the purest display of emotion he’d ever seen. Its rarity made it all the more special.

“What are you so eager for, hmm? Is Jae-hyung not feeding you?” Brian accused Jae.

The “offender” scoffed. “As if! I give that eating machine my food, my heart, my _soul_.”

“If you even have one,” Brian countered as he got up.

 _Yes, there’s his mockery._ “Don’t project your own shortcomings onto me.”

Brian chuckled (though it was hard to tell if it was fully sardonic). “Suck my dick.”

“I’m trying.”

“What?”

“ _What?_ ”

Jae swallowed down the sudden odd feeling that overcame him, feeling as if he’d been exposed, a dirty secret revealed. He came to realize, slowly but surely, that It felt strange for him now to make these jokes with Brian. Even though it fell smack in the middle of his sense of humor.

“You’re insufferable,” Brian concluded.

“I get that a lot, now come on,” Jae responded in a hurry, pulling Brian (back to his grumpy self) down to the basement to work. They usually worked in Jae’s room, but the basement churned out overbearing heat radiation, which was normally a burden but perfect for this kind of weather! Max trotted down the stairs after the pair, too.

 

 

Jae was somewhere in the closet. He was putting away the various equipment they had used, some that they hadn’t.

The project deadline was just about three weeks away, and January was fast approaching. But Jae wasn’t worried at all, they were working their tushies off to execute everything as perfectly, flawlessly as possible.

He re-entered the room to find Brian standing by the massive collection of mounted guitars and basses ( _and_ maybe a banjo and ukulele), admiring it.

“You can touch any of them, or use them, you know,” Jae encouraged. “If you’d like.”

Brian looked at him with wide eyes. “They’re all yours?”

“Nah, most of them are my dad’s. A few are mine!”

“They must be so expensive,” Brian commented, still gawking at the stringed instruments. “Wait, this one’s signed. And that one!”

“Yeah,” Jae began proudly. “My mom works in the music industry, she… knows people. You could say.”

Brian quirked his eyebrow with interest, and maybe a little jealousy. It was only natural- who _wouldn’t_ be jealous of that? Jae practically already had a foot through the door when it came to a career in music.

“Do you know how to play?” Jae wondered aloud.

“I play the bass,” Brian answered, but regretfully couldn’t stop himself before he continued, as if automatically, “I’m in a band, actually.”

_Brian, you damn turd, there was no need to say that! Why did I say that, I’ve never told, nor wanted to tell, anyone about it. I should stop hanging out with this kid, seriously._

“I’ll get going. It’s getting late.”

Jae registered the most unexpected clench of his heart. “No! Uh, I mean, you can stay, it’s no trouble at all.”

“Well-”

“You were fine with passing out on my bed during your _first_ time here…” Jae reminded in feigned innocence.

Brian snorted, “That was once!”

The elder crossed his arms, his right hip jutting out in the slightest.

I guess I don’t feel like walking in the cold. I could... stay for awhile longer.”

“Aww, look how happy Max is now!” Jae pointed to the pet eagerly forcing his head into Brian’s palm for it to be stroked.

Brian gladly yielded to the request. He’d always wanted a pet anyway- a dog. He felt so attached to his one, too, he didn’t mind all the stubborn dog hairs attaching to his clothes and arms.

Speaking of… The heat of the basement had ultimately overpowered the freezing kiss of winter, and was reaching boiling temperatures. Brian’s arms were fully exposed now, since he’d taken off his sweatshirt to reveal a loose tank top underneath. His muscles were decently toned, nothing crazy. Certainly enough to make Jae gaze at them for several seconds too long.

It felt like sensory overload. There were too many things that Jae was all too acutely becoming aware of, and he didn’t know why. At all. I mean, these were _arms_! He’d seen arms before! Why were Brian’s any different? It seemed like every facet of Brian’s being, appearance, personality, was turning into a league of its own. Universes of Jae’s perception where no rules applied.

These things would make him feel warm and tingly and dozens of other things, strange things he’d never felt before. And they had one thing in common: Brian.

Caught up in his thoughts, Jae stared Brian down, almost accusingly as he searched for an explanation.

Brian met his gaze with cringing discomfort, “What?”

Jae crossed his arms and recovered as suavely as he could. “I’m waiting for you to give me my dog back.”

“Looks like he likes me better anyway,” Brian pointed out, relaxing.

“He does not! Here, watch- Max! Maxie, come to daddy!”

Max readily denied Jae’s open arms. He much preferred keeping his belly right where it was, where it ought to be; under Brian’s doting rubs, thank you very much.

“What a good boy! Yes you are, oh yes you are!” Brian cooed at the dog.

“Man, fuck you guys.”

Brian ended up staying at least three more hours. Before he eventually left though, Jae had convinced him to play some tunes on the bass. What he didn’t know was that Jae took a little video of it. Perhaps, a little creepy. But hey, _sue him_ , he just wanted a video of his _fellow musician’s_ masterful performance. For… education!

Admittedly, Jae had been so focused on aiming the camera lens in the right direction (all while remaining inconspicuous) that he hadn’t even gotten the chance to even pay attention to Brian’s playing. So after waving Brian off with a wide smile to match the younger’s dismissive and embarrassed waves, Jae flopped onto his bed and pulled out his phone.

He watched the video, once. Twice. Three times. Oh God, too many times to count now. This wasn’t healthy. He accidentally pressed the “favorites” button for the video… he didn’t unclick it.

\----------

It couldn’t have slipped past Sungjin, or really anyone who knew Wonpil at all, that Wonpil was feeling down. It wasn’t hard to notice that, when he thought no one was looking, a sad look would ghost over his eyes, or a crease that wasn’t there before would etch itself into his forehead.

Sungjin took it upon himself to cheer his friend up. So throughout gym class, he made it a point to get as close to Wonpil as possible, as often as possible.

He’d change his route in the gym just to pass by him at the sidelines where he and Dowoon were sitting. He’d make silly signs at him whenever they made eye contact from across the room, smiling widely and giving thumbs up, doing stupid little dances and mocking Jae behind his back, all for Wonpil’s amusement.

Wonpil would giggle, sometimes make a motion to match Sungjin’s, like finger-guns or something.

Losers.

Sungjin probably asked to go to the bathroom five times in that single span of an hour, but he couldn’t be bothered. He had walked all the way around the gym every time in order to reach Wonpil and ruffle his hair while walking past.

He pet Dowoon’s head a few times on his way to and fro, too.

 

 

“It’s just so hard to distinguish sometimes, you know?” Wonpil tucked his knees to his chest and rested his chin over them. “The things this person does… Logically, I completely understand that they’re just friendly gestures. I like a great person, of course they’d be friendly! And if any of my other friends were to do those same exact things, I wouldn’t give a second thought to it. But, God! It’s like my brain is just waiting for those ambiguous moments to make me believe that my crush intends their actions to mean what _I want_ them to mean. You know?”

Dowoon couldn’t look at Wonpil without having to almost immediately avert his eyes (he settled on staring at the polished floor). He would rarely ever give any verbal response to what the older boy said, and still looking at his pained expressions was enough to understand all he needed to know.

Wonpil sighed deeply, “And I _know_ that their intentions are always good, still I-”

There was Sungjin, coming out of the locker room (its bathroom, most likely) for what was probably the tenth time, directing a wink. Right at Wonpil.

Wonpil stopped everything he was doing, maybe even breathing. That just wreaked havoc on his heart like no other, wow. He shoved his face into the tiny space between his knees and chest, and blushed like a tomato. He was mad at myself, for being happy and so, so sad.

The sudden pause made Dowoon glance at Wonpil in confusion. _Is… Is he dead?_

Dowoon’s inquisitive hand was maybe a centimeter away from the junior’s shoulder when Wonpil’s head jerked back up. And when it did, he sighed even more deeply than before.

At the very end of the period, Sungjin had made his way over to the incapacitated pair, and Dowoon overheard him tell Wonpil excitedly:

“Wonpilie, can I talk to you? I need to get going, but I’ll be at the back entrance of the school. I’ll wait up for a little bit, come find me!”

Wonpil looked ready to bolt straight out of his seat and into the locker room for the fastest outfit change ever, but his movements stuttered when he heard Dowoon groan.

The sophomore’s leg was still nowhere near healed yet, and his wound was quite sensitive to temperature, as wounds usually are. That day had been an especially cold one.

Dowoon was struggling to pick himself up, almost losing his balance once in an attempt. His stitches felt like they were going to burst, though of course he knew they wouldn’t; the thought didn’t help ease the pain at all.

Wonpil glanced at the locker room, only for a second, before dropping himself back to Dowoon’s level to secure his hands under the other’s underarms.

“Put any weight you can on your good leg, and I’ll help lift you,” he explained.

Dowoon would have declined if he didn’t genuinely need the help. So, he obeyed.

It took a while for it to work and the burning ache to subside enough, but Dowoon himself pushed off the ground using his right leg, keeping his injured one mostly suspended in middair while Wonpil lifted him the rest of the way to a standing position.

“Come on, now put your arm around me.”

“Wh-What?”

Wonpil wrapped his arm around Dowoon’s ribcage, elaborating, “So I can help carry you.” He giggled brightly, “I’m not as athletic as you, you know, I can’t exactly scoop you up bridal style. Help me help you.”

Dowoon blinked a few times, and slowly put his arm over Wonpil’s shoulder. Slow and steady, they eventually made their arrival at Dowoon’s locker.

Dowoon couldn’t put his finger on exactly how, but there was something so incredibly unassuming and understanding about Wonpil.

It made Dowoon want to rethink his entire notion of individuals and their intentions. Almost.

When Wonpil finally made it to the rendezvous location, there was no one there. Well, no one that he was looking for, at least.

\----------

Brian was finally leaving school. Finally friday, the last day of school before winter holiday break. His earbuds were already faithfully secured in his ears, ready to go.

His hairline was just slightly doused with sweat from gym. Even Brian didn’t want to deal with a deafening bullhorn yelling his name as punishment for not participating. Sigh.

He made a stop by the bathroom to check on his hair, and was happy to find it mostly in place, as he liked it. And not to toot his own horn, but _toot toot_ his hair was looking great; it surprised him how satisfied he was with his natural raven black hair, after years of dyeing it unnatural colors.

A little confidence for the _au naturel_ never hurt anyone, right? How healthy of him!

As Brian was stepping out of the bathroom he had to narrowly escape running directly into someone by stepping aside. Well well well, wasn’t this the dumbass that Brian roasted in the art room a couple months ago?

“You should watch where you’re going, pussy,” he said, shoving Brian back into the bathroom. _What, does he want a fucking rematch?_

Brian scoffed. “You should try taking your own advice.” He tried pushing past him, but was barred.

“Yeah? And why’s that?” the boy persisted.

“Well, you _are_ going down the path of becoming a 40 year old misogynistic, homophobic stoner. _I_ know exactly where I’m going, so get out of my _fucking way._ ”

Ah, that felt good. Brian shouldered past the bully and exited the bathroom.

It wasn’t long until he felt an ironclad grip on my shoulder yank him backward, hard. He was swirled around to find that the bully, unlike himself, clearly had not had enough yet.

“You think you can just talk to me like that? And get away with it?” The guy held onto the collar of Brian’s shirt with a shaking fist. It was shaking with rage.

“All I did was answer your question,” Brian pointed out and rolled his eyes. Gosh, it was getting so tiring standing around like this with his _enormous balls of steel_ weighing him down, ugh.

If there was a right answer to the bully’s confrontation, Brian definitely hadn’t said it because next thing he knew a set of knuckles was coming right at his face.

Maybe in an ideal world he could have stopped it, a dramatic breeze blowing through his hair while doing so. But Brian was just a tough guy with a mean resting bitch face. He could throw a punch (maybe), but he definitely didn’t have the skills to block one.

The pain in his left cheek was immediate. Brian was sent reeling, though he didn’t become as dizzy as he did disoriented. Another hit swooped in for his mouth; he could tell that one was going to be a killer for his lip.

The junior pulled a hand up to his mouth. Blood. Though the sharp telltale metallic taste of it should have been indication enough.

This was highly unusual- a physical confrontation hardly ever happened. Sure, Brian got verbally harassed plenty, but he could give two shits about what other people had to say about him. He definitely wouldn’t apologize for someone else’s ignorance.

And he could keep the comments at bay, too, since his own harshness was off-putting and tiresome to deal with, prompting others to just frustratedly ignore him.

It’s surprising how defeated many are left feeling when their target is unbothered by their criticism.

But sometimes, people like this bully would take Brian’s self-assurance as a sign of challenge, an invitation to fight. And the word “fight” was indeed blaring in big flashing letters in the head of Brian’s opponent.

Brian’s stumbling back set some distance between the two boys, but the bully was advancing again. Brian was biting back the pain in his face and hardening his resolve when a taller body came into few directly in front of him. The figure stood defensively in front of Brian, back facing him. It was Jae.

“Whoa, what the fuck is going on here?!”

Brian looked over the older student’s shoulder and saw the bully’s movements stutter. “J-Jae hyung? I was just teaching this fag a lesson, don’t worry about it.”

“Lee Yobeom, do not make me tell your brother that you’re out beating up people! Come on, leave Brian here to his business and carry on with yours,” Jae warned, and patted Yobeom on the shoulder. Hard.

“I-”

“I better not catch you up to anything like this again.”

“But he deserves it, maybe I can punch the gay out of him,” he barked out with laughter.

Brian jumped in, “Didn’t work, I still like dicks, motherfucker,” he shot angrily.

Jae was quick with his hands when he held back Yobeom from effectively grabbing at Brian.

The beaten up boy clicked his tongue and was walking away now, so that they (mostly his offender) wouldn’t decipher the look of immense physical pain he could hardly hide from his face.

Jae glanced at Brian’s retrieting figure and rushed to cut the exchange with Yobeom short:

“I don’t want you stirring up trouble like this _ever_ , Beom-ah. I won’t hesitate to call your brother up, we’re very close, you know, he and I.”

The younger boy’s head hung low. “Fine, hyung. Just… don’t tell Yosub-hyung anything.”

“And leave Brian alone,” Jae said with a tone so threatening even he was surprised. “And I mean _alone_.”

Yobeom hesitated, very begrudgingly agreeing.

“Good. See you around, Yobeom-ah, I’ll say hi to your brother for you!” Jae was finally retreating, heading straight in Brian’s direction.

“Wait _what_?!”

 

 

Jae saw Brian’s hunched figure seated on the sidewalk outside school. He also saw Jiwoo coming up from an opposite direction, walking toward Brian; it would seem they had the same goal in mind.

Brian, beaten up and surely very upset. Jiwoo, excitable and cutesy. Not a good combo right now, Brian was definitely going to blow up at any moment.

The senior ran as fast and as stealthily as he could, reaching Jiwoo before her reaching Brian.

“Jiwoo! What are you doing here?” he asked nonchalantly, using his arm over her shoulder to reverse her direction and steer her away from Brian.

“Jae? I-“ she tried turning around, “I was just going to chat with Brian, you weirdo.”

“Oooh, no can do, amiga.”

Jiwoo stopped walking. “Why the hell not?”

“Listen, he’s… not in a great mood and he doesn’t do well with people he doesn’t know too well. Come on, please. I know you want to be your nice sociable self, but trust me, it won’t go well this time.”

“Well, you two sure have been hanging out a lot recently.”

“It’s for a project!” Jae blurted out too quickly. That wasn’t even a lie, why was he so embarrassed?

“Oh… right. Yeah, of course. Oh! Could you, like, give me a heads up or something when you guys meet up?”

“Uh, sure? I’m not sure why you’d want that but-“

“Perfect, thanks, Jaehyungie!” Jiwoo grinned. She then took her leave, a little pep in her step this time.

Jae breathed out a sigh of relief. He turned back to Brian only to find that he wasn’t there. _Where-?_

He spotted his friend’s black head of hair farther down the road, walking. Jae found himself running again, to try and reach him.

“Brian-ah!!!!!!” he screamed, willing the other boy to hear him, slow down, wait up, stop, do _something_ because Jae’s body was not built for exercise.

The target swirled around in surprise, but sighed when he recognized the caller. Jae nonetheless reached his side, heaving and sweating. Eventually.

“How are you feeling? You okay?” he spoke quickly.

“Just _splendid_! Couldn’t you tell from my split lip?”

Jae frowned. “So, are you going to the emergency room?”

“What? No, I’m going home.” Brian picked up his pace but winced. His hand reached up to hold his temple.

 _What? What is he thinking?!_ “Home? In _your_ condition? Do you even have a first aid kit?”

The junior stuttered.

“Let me take you to my place at least, please, I can help,” Jae reasoned, his words becoming more urgent the more he dwelled on the sight of Brian’s growing bruise. Jae lowered his hand on the other’s arm.

Brian shook his limb out of the grasp. “I don’t want your help. I’m fine by myself.”

“I know you are, _but_ . You’re hurt. And I can just treat your injuries in ways maybe you can’t. So can you _please_ come with me?”

Only silence followed his request. Either Brian was taking his sweet time mulling it over or he had no intentions of accepting whatsoever.

Jae took  a shot in the dark. “You’ll get to see Max~”

Brian’s eye twitched. “Is it Friday today?”

Jae nodded.

“Bull _shit_ then, Max is at the groomer every Friday.”

Okay, now was absolutely not the time for Jae to think about Brian memorizing his dog’s grooming schedule. But it will definitely come up later.

Oh yeah.

“Nope, appointment was cancelled. He’s home all alone now… so alone.”

The softie inside Brian huffed, feeling his resolve crumble. He could really use a nice, warm puppy hug. Puppies don’t care if you’re gay or not, they just love you and your friends and everyone.

Brian spoke, barely above a whisper:

“Okay, let’s go.”

\----------

It had, originally, come up as a joke, but it didn’t seem so far off that it could come true.

Jae had entertained the idea of finishing the project before Christmas, so that he and Brian needn’t worry about it over winter break, but he hadn’t thought that the possibility would actually float within their reach.

It was December 23rd, eight at night, and Brian and Jae were camped out at the library. At this point, they were reviewing their work over and over again, making sure they hadn’t left anything behind, hadn’t forgotten a single detail.

Miraculously, they were done. Jae knew that it had taken them countless hours, but somehow it felt so...short? His time with Brian felt like it had gone by too fast.

Jae’s realizing that he was prepared to sabotage their own project so they could stay together longer. He _could_ make up flaws just to keep meeting with Brian, joking and bonding and collaborating. He wanted to hold onto this version of Brian that was more genuine and relaxed than the hardened personality that existed all other times.

Don’t get him wrong, Brian was still just as sharp-tongued and self-serving as ever. But over these weeks, it’s like Jae had actually pried open a crevice of his personality, and a sliver of brightness had shined through.

Jae wanted to preserve that. He feared the return of coldness that was so ingrained in the boy’s attitude. His coldness in this moment was just so different; it held a different edge to it, more comedic and bantering than venomous.

What if things change after they really finish this project, and they lose this? Whatever _this_ was, or had become. Sure, they’d still have the team, but it wasn’t the same. This was so much more… intimate?

Jae gazed at Brian, whose eyebrows were furrowed in concentration at the sheets on the table.

Hanging around Brian more and more as time went along had certainly… complicated things. The eldest was having trouble discerning their relationship, or rather, discerning how he himself felt about their relationship.

“I think we’re good… This is it, we’re done,” Brian said with a sigh that seemed to release the stress and exhaustion of four weeks worth of work.

“Yeah...” Jae laughed breathily.

“I’ll pack everything up and take it with me until it’s time to hand in.”

Jae narrowed his eyes, faking offense, “Why can’t I take it?”

“Oof, this is gonna be a long list. For starters, you are an imbecile. You’d probably drop our entire binder down a manhole while you’re “skateboarding”. Whatever that is, anyway. Don’t even get me started on the likelihood of you either losing the whole thing in your house, or forgetting to turn it in-”

Jae signalled to stop Brian (and his stupidly arrogant grin) with a heavy hand of exasperation. “I regret asking. Fine, take it.”

“I mean… you’re welcome.”

“Don’t be so smug about insulting me into submission. Conniving asshole,” Jaehyung added.

“Realist,” Brian defended himself.

A few seconds of awkward silence were broken by the younger’s sudden getting up:

“I’ll take this home then, I’ll look over the whole thing one more time to make sure it’s perfect.”

“...If that stick was any further up your ass you’d be choking on it. We’re on _break_ now, Brian-ah. Break. We finished the project two weeks early. You know what that means, right? Time to rest. I don’t know, get a hobby or something. A hobby that doesn’t involve looking for mistakes in our project so you can yell at me.”

“I don’t need an excuse to yell at you,” Brian sneered. He had gathered all his things into his backpack, and was pulling a sweatshirt over his head to prepare for the chill he was about to face outside. “Well, we did well, I guess. Thanks, hyung.” Brian was looking away, doing his best to speak as casually as possible.

“It was surprisingly a pleasure doing business with you,” Jae admitted.

“See you in January, then.” A small smile graced Brian’s face, and he was turning away.

“Wait!” Jae yelped. “Wait, you have-” he began, stepping in front of Brian and keeping his eyes fixed on the other’s black hair.

Brian flinched, reflexively slapping away Jae’s hand when it moved toward his head. “Wh-What are you- Get your fuckin’ hand-”

“Shut up and sit still, you have fuzz all over your hair, let me get it off,” Jae chastised, returning his hands back toward the shorter head. “It’s probably from your sweatshirt.”

The (now) blonde boy was carefully picking off little fluffs of fabric from Brian’s contrasting dark hair. He tried not to think about how close they were standing. _Just stick to the task, Jae, just look at his hair._

Meanwhile, Brian was clenching his jaw; a little embarrassed, a little shy, very uncomfortable. Or was it unsure? He couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

“There,” Jae concluded, and he retracted his hand. He had a satisfied smile on his lips.

Brian mumbled an acknowledgement.

“Uh…” Jae began again, “there’s a party a week from now, on Friday, if you wanna come? It’s at a friend’s house, kind of a holiday party…?”

“Last time I accepted an offer like this I had to run two miles to escape the police.”

“Funny how that worked out, huh?” Jae laughed sheepishly. “Don’t worry~ It’ll be fine this time! Please?”

Brian narrowed his eyes but fidgeted with his backpack strap. “Text me the address,” he said, and started, for the third time, for the door. He yelled, “Doesn’t mean I’m coming!”

Jae was nonetheless elated. “You’re gonna have a great time! S-See you there!”

The boy was left alone in the library. He sank into his seat with relief… and a little bit of excitement.

Okay, okay. A lot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the mildest spicy to ever spicy is coming up ;) i shouldnt even call it spicy because it's nOT but like... idk this semester has left me with a grand total of 2.5 brain cells so


	10. What's in a kiss?

A distinct smell of roasting coffee beans hung comfortably in the atmosphere, making for a warm feeling on the cold winter days. A few (hundred) shots of caffeine and a picturesque coffee shop; what more could a hipster youth ask for?

Somehow, Jae had ended up sitting at a vacant little table. And get this: on a date!

Well, blind date, sort of. He could see the girl trying desperately to finish her barista shift. He’d never actually met her, though.

It had all been Jiwoo’s idea, as she was intent on Jae finding a girlfriend. His romantic apathy had struck her as an enigma, one that she’d thence undertaken as her own responsibility to solve.

She’d excitedly set up the date, raved on and on about this girl. Jiwoo said she was just Jae’s style, or at least what she presumed Jae’s style _would_ be. The girl was apparently older than them both, but not by much. She was a college student, funny, cute…

Funny thing was, Jae was excited, too. But not for the reason Jiwoo would like to hear, probably; meeting new people always just brought him a strange, fulfilling joy. It was an exciting thing to meet someone new! To talk to them for the first time, when every interaction was unfamiliar and interesting, and every person was a maze to navigate.

Jae heard the telltale sound of glass cracking, drawing his attention to the front counter. His eyes met a girl’s. His date, smiling sheepishly at him and holding a broken cup, as if her first reaction to the incident was looking at Jae to make sure she hadn’t embarrassed herself too much.

 _She’s cute_ , Jae thought with a humorous scoff.

It only took a few minutes for her to avoid getting murdered by the manager, shrug off her apron and make her way to her date.

“Hi…” the girl began sweetly, “sorry about earlier. And sorry for making you wait!”

Jae laughed. “Oh please. Hey, that cup cracked because you’re just too hot,” he winked.

A blush spread quickly over the girl’s cheeks; she giggled. Jae froze.

Wait. A second. Wait.

That was a joke. That was meant to be funny, why was she flustered? He always made jokes like that, people never had a reaction like this.

Did they mean something different now, to her? Did she think he was flirting?

“You’re too much,” she smiled.

“I get that a lot, actually. I’m Jae. I figured maybe it would be a good idea to know each other’s names.”

“Oh, right! My name’s Sohee, nice to meet you, Jae. Actually I would have been fine to keep calling you Chicken Little. The resemblance is really uncanny,” she said.

“I-”

She burst out laughing.

“That bitch didn’t tell you my name but she told you about that godforsaken nickname?! I swear that movie will haunt me to my grave.”

“Jiwoo was very specific about mentioning it,” Sohee managed through her giggles. “I can see why!”

“Is this really my legacy? _A children’s movie?_ ”

“There are worse things,” she tried.

Jae sighed, but a smile beamed on his face lightheartedly. “You should make it up to me. That was mortifying, I deserve compensation for emotional damages.”

“Deal,” she said. “Lunch, on me. Well, on my very generous employee discount.”

Jae could tell he was going to like this girl.

 

Yeah, he liked her.

They got to talking, and it wasn’t hard to see why Jiwoo thought she’d be a hit.

Sohee is quick-witted, has a fast sense of humor and an infectious laugh that makes the worst jokes seem at least three times funnier. She’s kind, willing to pay for Jae’s ravenous appetite (always a bonus), and easy to talk to.

She’s older than Jae, by two years or so. She was studying interior design at a nearby university. They didn’t talk much of school though, since she said she’d rather not ruin their perfectly interesting conversation.

Honestly, understandable.

“Even as your personality tells me you have the mental age of, at most, an eight year old, I still forget you’re not my age. You look older… Must be your height.”

“Better than most estimates. Usually people say it’s around five years old,” Jae tried his best to not laugh.

“No no no, you have the capacity to make the most basic of dick jokes, which qualifies you for at least elementary school-level mental age.”

“Thank you.”

She hummed nonchalantly, but Jae could hear the tremble of laughter peeking through the noise. Which she tried to disguise by sipping her coffee.

Sohee’s eyes were drawn to her wristwatch; her brows became knitted together, and she said:

“Oh-! It’s already been three hours! I should be picking up my little brother from swimming practice right about now,” she exclaimed, worry and some sadness in her voice.

“You ready to head out, then?” Jae clarified.

“I guess so…”

She rose from her chair, and Jae followed suit, heading for the door as they’d already paid the bill a while ago. They silently agreed that he’d accompany her on the walk to her car. The two made light jokes along the way, but Sohee seemed genuinely upset that their time had run out for this date. Jae… He was upset, too.

“I had a lot of fun,” he said when they arrived, winking. “Your generous offer to pay for lunch was almost as pleasant as your company.”

Sohee gave one of those breathy laughs, mostly just a sharp exhale through the nostrils and a blinding smile.

She’d been mulling something over in her head for the past ten minutes. Was she trying to convince herself to do it or convince herself _out_ of it? Hard to tell. She did know that she had nothing to lose. Well, nothing except her dignity maybe.

And so, as he was glancing at the despicable piece gum he’d almost stepped on, out of the corner of his eye Jae saw Sohee move quickly, upwards. And then he felt her lips touch his.

A kiss.

It was one of the strangest feelings. There was no hint of repulsion in him. No recoiling. His lips became tense from the suddenness of it all, but they were gradually turning softer.

It wasn’t embarrassing to say that this was his first kiss, right? Profane jokes were good and all, but Jae was a rookie when it came down to it.

He felt his eyes close on instinct, somehow, despite his surprise. He supposed the feeling was nice. A good kiss? She was cupping his upper jaw, and her hands were warm against the cold wind. He didn’t push her away… but he didn’t pull her closer either.

What he didn’t expect, then, was the sudden, overwhelming sense of guilt that overcame him. Like he’d done something wrong. Something that he didn’t even know what it was.

And inexplicably, in the midst of Sohee’s lips tentatively moving against his, he saw Brian’s face. Clear as day, Brian staring back at him from the recesses of his mind. Those impossibly cat-like eyes, boring into Jae. The stare was accusatory (hurt?), in a way, like there’d been a betrayal of trust. Breaking a promise. To Brian or himself, Jae wasn’t sure.

Suddenly, everything that was happening felt so _wrong_.

Jae pulled himself back almost immediately, his lips still pursed and confused and worried. He stuttered to explain himself, even when he wasn’t sure himself what was going on.

“I- I’m so sorry. I can’t. I think I just… realized something. Big. I’m so sorry,” he begged.

Sohee looked at him for a long time, a thoughtful look on her face, before she spoke, “Gay?”

If possible, Jae felt even more confused now. “I… I don’t know!”

The girl gathered herself up, breathing out all her disappointment in a sigh, to be there for her _friend_ now. Because that’s what he clearly needed:

“Hey, it’s okay. Don’t worry about me! I’ve had worse things happen on a date, trust me. Plus,” she flashed a teasing smile, “I’m in interior design, my whole life basically revolves around gays. I don’t judge.” She rubbed his shoulder comfortingly.

Jae chuckled, still somewhat frazzled. “Thanks, noona.”

“I hope you find the answers you’re looking for. Keep an open mind!” Sohee was getting in her car. “And remember, I’m only a call away,” she reassured, smiling.

Jae smiled, too. He watched her pull out of the parking spot, and it took a while until he was able to move his legs and out of his spot on the ground.

He had a lot of thinking to do.

\----------

He gulped down another shot of liquid courage, as it was generously called, and did what he could to calm his nerves. He felt a hand slap against his back, and a booming voice sound from next to him.

“Jae-hyung! I’m so glad you could make it!!” the boy said, yelling to project his voice over the even louder music. The house owner, planner of the party: Hoseok. “You havin’ fun?”

Before Jae even had a chance to respond, a scantily dressed girl came over, stealing his friend’s attention. And judging by the way they were already looking at each other, she might as well have taken him away physically because this poor bastard probably couldn’t hear anything other than the throbbing of his own dick right now.

Jae groaned and pushed back another shot.

Jae’s high metabolism was good for another thing: being a heavyweight when it came to alcohol. Truthfully though, he never was one to get really drunk, and a few shots usually got the job done for his preferences. Just enough to feel more relaxed without all the nightmarish hangover symptoms the next day.

Well, today was going to be different.

He’d like to think that he’s been responsible with his alcohol intake all this time. One day wouldn’t wreck his liver, right? Just this one day. Because, boy did he need it.

He’d already had a lot and he was certainly feeling it all kick in. He was thankfully realizing that he was not a clumsy drunk, but he was sure sensing much less… reservation when it came to decision-making.

Someone caught his eye from across the room, and Jae really shouldn’t have been surprised that he’d spotted him from so far away. Brian was all he’d been thinking about for the past four days.

Of course. _Of course_ Jae would spot him.

Without thinking much about it, Jae raised his long arm above the crowd, waving it frantically until Brian saw it- and him.

 _God have mercy_ , Brian looked incredible. His skin was positively glowing, and his dark hair looked even darker. _Is it wet?_ Jae distantly wondered if it was raining outside. Brian had taken the careless liberty of sweeping his hair backward and to the side, leaving a thin strand of damp hair to fall down over his forehead. It wasn’t intentional, it wouldn’t have been, but Jae swore that it was the most attractive hairstyle he’d ever seen.

He was wearing a purple turtleneck and a black coat over it, with black jeans and black vans. He looked like he didn’t belong in this scene, maybe a magazine would suit him more.

“I came,” he said after finally making it over to Jae, “now where’s my money?”

Jae had a wide smile on his face. “Hey, I never promised you any money! Admit it, you came out of the goodness of your heart.”

Brian stared at the senior, unimpressed. There was, still, a slight teasing twinkle in his eyes.

The moment he plopped himself down onto the stool next to Jae, it hit him.

“Who-o-o-oa. You been drinking?”

“...Maybe.”

“How much did you fucking have? You smell like an alcoholic truck driver.”

“Enough to not feel my toes,” Jae said after some contemplation. “Don’t worry about it.”

Brian rolled his eyes.

It didn’t take long for him to get used to the scent and the deafening (not to mention awful-sounding) music. Though, true to Jae’s promise, this party seemed much more tame than the last, and certainly more humble. It erred more on the side of “teenage house party” than “mansion rager”.

Most of the people there paid Brian no mind, save for the few unsurprisingly dirty glares. Oh well.

It looked like Jae was in no particular mood to chat up a storm with everyone this time, because he paid mind to no one, really. Except Brian.

“Thanks for coming,” he said, watching his finger trace the rim of an empty beer bottle. “I missed you!”

“I’ve seen you enough to last me a century. Enough,” Brian grumbled.

“Well then why did you come, big guy?” Jae looked up, teasing, with his hands on his hips.

Brian narrowed his eyes.

He didn’t know. He didn’t know why.

_Why had he come?!_

“Eeeexacty,” Jae snapped his fingers, making small finger-guns. “Gotcha.” His hand was reaching for another beer bottle before Brian slapped it back.

“No more of that.”

“Hey!” He rubbed his hand, “this is my night! Let me live my best life.”

Brian looked at Jae very sincerely then, tilting his head and raising a brow. “I’d say you’re already living a pretty damn good life. What else could you possibly want?”

Jae probably held his gaze for more than he should have. He could have leaned in to kiss him right then and there. He would have done it.

The thought scared him more than anything.

He groaned so loudly then, and reached for the beer bottle again.

\----------

Brian was walking out of the bathroom on the second floor of the house, a small relief (physically and mentally) from the chaos of the ground floor.

As swift as light, he felt a hand wrap around his bicep and yank him into a room. It was dark and his eyes struggled to adjust to the relatively dim lighting. He heard the door slam shut behind him.

_For fuck’s sake, why do these things always happen when I’m leaving the bathroom?! Can’t I just pee in peace?_

He soon saw Jae’s face, staring at him intently with an expression he’d never seen on the boy.

“Jesus fuck, it’s you. I thought I was being jumped,” Brian yelled.

“Oh- Sorry,” Jae smiled with embarrassment, averting his eyes.

They stood by the door, neither saying anything more, just like that. Brian’s hip jutted out as he waited for Jae to speak. Explain himself. Do _something_.

He tried making eye contact with the other boy to probe him.

“Alright then,” Brian finally said, his hand on the doorknob. This was getting really weird. And awkward.

“Wait! Please.”

Brian’s hand stopped, hearing Jae’s almost pleading tone.

“Stay.”

“Well are you going to talk? You’re the one who assaulted me, you know.”

Okay, perhaps that sounded a little more harsh than he intended considering Jae was drunk, sensitive, and looked constipated at the moment. Experience told him it was better to be harsh than transparent, though.

“I hope we can be friends,” Jae blurted.

The younger’s face contorted into a puzzled frown.

“I don’t really… know where we’re at. We’ve been working on the project for a while… and _I_ think it went pretty swell,” Jae giggled at his last word- definitely drunk. “I’d like to think I could call you my friend. And I, yours. Y’ know?”

Brian was thoroughly baffled.

Here was this lanky buffoon, a senior with maybe a total of three brain cells and near perfect grades, a top-of-the-food-chain kind of guy, a prodigy in most anything imaginable with a blindly kind heart. Here he was. Wanting- no _asking_ , to be friends with Brian.

To share secrets with him, confide in him, listen to him, _care_ for him and be cared for. To put his trust in Brian and pray that it won’t be betrayed, promising the same for all he is entrusted with in turn.

To support each other.

 _Look out for each other_.

“I can’t tell. How you feel about me, I mean.”

Jae was looking around, thinking deeply. He looked a little funny, like a little kid trying really hard to focus.

“Sometimes I think I know and it’s okay and then you change and I don’t know anymore and I’m confused and then we’re good again but you’re still a supreme asshole so I think it’s all in my head because you’re you and I’m me but I caught you laughing at my jokes you can’t deny it and I think my dog likes you more than me which, actually, is super insulting now that I think about it-”

Every cell in Brian’s body, every neuron in his brain was firing furiously and ordering his limbs to get moving and get the fuck out of there.

This was precisely what he’d been avoiding. Confronting feelings and doubts he buried in the deepest darkest room in the furthest part of his soul, for not only his benefit, but everyone else’s.

And it had worked. For so long, it worked, and Brian got used to it because it was so much easier like this.

So how could he have possibly found himself in this situation?

More importantly, why couldn’t he find it in himself to be nearly as upset as he should be?

“I can’t answer that,” he began.

He noticed Jae snap his head toward him, and shut his mouth. Had he been talking this whole time?!

“But,” Brian continued when he saw the boy’s face fall, “I don’t think it would hurt to be… friendly.”

Maybe things could be different. Brian wasn’t the same boy from four years ago. Slowly, maybe things would be different.

“You’re okay in my book. Hyung.” He smiled a small, shy smile, secretly full of hope.

In the dark, Jae’s smile was blinding just then. In a second, his arms were sloppily wrapped  around Brian, his oddly warm body flush against the other’s. A passing realization that their height difference made Brian’s head fit perfectly into the crook of Jae’s neck crossed the younger’s mind.

With the minuscule range of motion that Jae’s hug allowed for Brian’s arms, he lightly rested his hands along Jae’s waist.

“Alright, off. Off,” he croaked.

Jae hesitated, almost as if he wanted to do something else. Alas, he squeezed a little tighter, and let go.

He was still sporting that dumbly huge grin on his face when he plopped onto the bed behind them and looked at Brian innocently:

“So… wanna drive me home?”

Brian sighed.

_So I’m his chauffeur now. So much for "friend"._

\----------

“Jesus, all that alcohol made you ten kilos heavier,” Brian yelped while he helped Jae out of the car, pulling the boy’s arm over his shoulder.

“My grandma always said I was too skinny,” he fired back, shooing the aid away.

When they made it to the front gate of the house, Brian watched with amusement while Jae shimmied close to the keypad to unlock the gate. Jae cupped the keypad perimeter defensively, narrowing his eyes at Brian.

“Oh please, I’m not looking at your password. Do you even remember it?”

“Of course I do!”

A mechanical buzzing sound echoed, cutting him off. _Access denied._

“Mm-hmm.”

“Shut up!”

He put it in again, this time interjecting each key entry with a ten second pause.

The gate door popped open just a smidge following the sixth key.

Jae stuck his tongue out, swinging the door open and fumbling to fish his house keys out of his skinny jean pocket.

 _So dramatic_ , Brian thought. He followed Jae to his doorstep, monitoring his heedless struggle to pry open the door and step inside just a little, turning back around to face Brian.

He was playing with his fingers, strangely.

“Well, now that I know you didn’t manage to kill yourself getting from the car to your house, I’m gonna… get going,” Brian said.

“Hold on,” Jae interrupted, awkwardly extending his hand and pulling Brian over the threshold of the door in the slightest, so his body was inside the house. “Thanks. For everything,” he smiled brightly. “I’m glad you decided to come tonight.”

Brian looked into Jae’s eyes and let himself say what came to mind first. “Me too.”

Those eyes crinkled with happiness. Brian didn’t notice him chewing on his lip furiously.

With stuttering motions, Jae looked around and up, spotting something. “Oh, would you look at that.”

The younger boy followed his line of sight. And then he saw it.

A mistletoe.

A fucking mistletoe, perched _just so_ against the door frame, inside the house.

Right over Brian’s head.

“Huh, I guess my mom put it up while I was gone… Well, you know what we have to do,” Jae said with a shrug.

“Wha-”

Jae stepped forward, his lips puckered and arms extended outward.

Brian’s palm came down against Jae’s face, pushing him backward and cringing. “No no no, you are not getting anywhere near me.”

Jae comically huffed, pouting like a little kid. But, just below the surface, there was more than humor at play.

The alcohol crowding his system certainly wasn’t helping his inhibitions. Or, really, lack thereof. Sober Jae’s raging anxiety was about to get the scare of its life.

All these days, weeks, of wondering about his feelings. Months of escalation. Confusion. Not knowing what was real and what was not. All over a boy.

This one boy, standing in front of him right now. Under a mistletoe. This was his chance, it was truly perfect. It would answer all his questions, once and for fucking all.

Drunk Jae was going to go out with a bang. No more wondering. If this was love, he was gonna find out.

His hands were sweating with excitement. Here goes…

With a modest inch forward, Jae leaned in until his lips met Brian’s.

God, it felt like fireworks in his belly.

And no, it wasn’t the tequila shots he had.

Automatically, his hand moved to cup the boy’s face. His lips were so soft. He couldn’t help himself from tilting his head ever so slightly, kissing with a little more… passion than before.

And maybe it was the shock, but Jae swore he felt Brian’s lips move against his, slotting them together perfectly.

Regretfully, but more than satisfied with the outcome, Jae stepped back. Dazed would be a very forgiving term to use for his current state.

“See,” he tried, “that wasn’t so bad.”

In an attempt to pat Brian’s shoulder, Jae missed the body part altogether at least three times before succeeding.

“I… Just… Go to bed,” Brian finally said, and sighed. He didn’t know what to say, so he didn’t say anything about it at all. “Go straight to bed, okay? No stupid shit.”

Jae nodded enthusiastically.

“...’Night,” he said, walking out and back to the car.

_I swear if Jae wasn’t drunk off his ass right now I’d have kicked him right between the legs._

Honestly though, Brian felt more inconvenienced than upset by the whole thing.

Judging by how out-of-it Jae was and looked, Brian didn’t really feel the need to make a big deal about it. It was just another one of Jae’s spoofs taken too far, right? In the state he was in, Brian was actually surprised he didn’t do anything more catastrophic while at the party.

Maybe he should be mad. Or upset. But he wasn’t, not significantly, anyway. Jae probably didn’t even know what he was doing until it was over and done. And the best part, no _way_ he’d remember tomorrow, so there was no reason to relive it.

Just a dumb kiss under a mistletoe because Jae was an ally and trying to be funny. That’s it.

Brian was sat in his car, thinking. He didn’t realize when his fingers moved to touch his lips absentmindedly.

Jae, on the other hand, was practically bouncing off the walls.

They kissed. They kissed!

_Holy fuck, we kissed!_

How could a tiny little kiss make someone feel so happy and so, so lovely?

Jae felt like he could take on the world, right then and there. Nothing could possibly bring him down. He was twirling and dancing around, slowly making his way up to the bedroom with the biggest grin on his face.

He was on top of the whole world. This euphoria, he was going to feel it forever.

\----------

He felt _terrible_.

His stomach was tied into a hundred knots, and every movement was running the very likely risk of Jae throwing up. He had truly never felt worse in his whole life.

It was eleven in morning but he wouldn’t mind sleeping for another short 24 hours. Maybe then this pounding headache would stop drilling holes into his temples. Times like these were when Jae really wished someone was home regularly to nurse him back to health.

Pulling out his phone was a huge mistake because the screen was at 100% brightness. What kind of psychopath keeps their brightness at 100% all the time? His drunk alter ego was a psychopath.

 _Oh, right_. This was a hangover.

Jae couldn’t imagine how any hangover could possibly ever be worse than this one. Which was just a _great_ thought to have while going through it. He squinted his eyes as much as he could without actually closing them, and adjusted the screen brightness to its lowest setting. A few buttons and he was listening to the beeping of an outgoing call.

“mmHello,” a voice answered.

“Son, you need to come take care of me.”

“Jae-hyung, what? Are you okay?” It was Wonpil’s lilted voice, rising with worry.

“Your old man is hungover and I think my bed is about to become my coffin,” Jae rasped out.

He coughed just then, and he was sure his body was ready to throw up in that exact moment.

“Hungover?! That’s odd for you, ummm- Well… I was kinda, um, in the middle of- No, it’s fine. Okay, okay nevermind. I’ll be there soon, hyung!”

Jae’s going to assume that was an internal monologue because his mind could only process approximately one word per second and that was about thirty in two.

“You know the passcode… You still know where the spare is, right?” Oh no, Jae was fading. Passing out was imminent.

“Under the rock next to the shrubs!” Wonpil confirmed.

“Perfect.”

And like that, he was out like a light.

Maybe twenty minutes later, he woke up from the fervent knocking on his front door. The thought that he’d dreampt the conversation with Wonpil crossed his mind while he forced his body, with the utmost difficulty and nausea, out of bed.

It probably took him five minutes to get to the door alone, but it was better than nothing, okay?

He wasn’t sure if it was his present weakness or what, but it took a great deal of strength to _yank_ the door open. In front of him was Wonpil with an expression of considerable distress.

“Thank god, I thought you actually died!” he yelped and invited himself in to pull Jae into a hug. “I’ve been knocking for almost ten minutes!”

Jae shut the door, shooing away the sunlight. “Don’t you have the key?”

The younger boy held up the key, but his eyebrows were still furrowed in confusion. “Yeah, but your door was jammed! What the hell did you do to it last night when you came home?”

Wait.

Coming home… How had Jae even gotten home?

“Shit, dude, I can’t remember a single thing about last night. Holy shit, I’ve never been so wasted. I literally can’t remember anything past midnight, maybe? Uhh, Brian… I saw Brian at the party!”

He racked his brain for any sort of detail about the rest of the night. But it was just blank. Completely blank.

He suddenly felt sadness seep into his heart. Brian had come after all, and he couldn’t even recall past that conversation they had in the room… _Oh god_.

He spilled his guts out to the guy! “ _I hope we can be friends_ ”?!

And the rambling. Oh no, the _rambling_. But… Brian had taken it well, hadn’t he? Yes… he thinks he had.

Jae’s heart kicked that sadness to the curb, and for a moment he forgot about his body feeling like it was about to shut down. His insides swelled with so much joy. It was overwhelming, he had to bite his lip to contain himself.

“Maybe you can ask him how you got home then. Jesus, hyung,” Wonpil reprimanded. God knows what could have happened to Jae if he’d been all alone, completely _shit-faced_ like that.

Jae held his throbbing head. “I know, I’m sorry.”

“As long as you know not to do it again,” he added to lessen the reproach. “Come on, let’s get you all better now.”

“Yes please,” Jae smiled gratefully.

“Wait- Oh, a mistletoe!”

Jae looked up dazedly. Oh, yeah, there was that.

“Bring it in, hyung,” Wonpil laughed, opening his arms, waiting for a smooch.

Jae didn’t think think twice when he kissed his palm and slapped Wonpil (lightly). “There. Now come,” he said, walking toward the stairs.

Wonpil pouted, vengeful. He ran after Jae and yelled, “I hope you choke on the soup I make you!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehehehehe hehe hehehehe heeeeeEee


	11. Baby steps

Sungjin didn’t think they could be playing any worse even if they were  _ trying _ .

The Coach had announced that small practice tournaments would be starting now, in preparation for the final showdown at the Spring sport festival. After a period of practices, the real deal would be starting, and teams will be eliminated. 

Their prospects weren’t great at the moment. To put it lightly, that is. 

Their activity, energy, resolve- all waning. And as much of a mood maker as Jae was, it was the first day back from break.  _ No one  _ in the whole  _ building _ wanted to be there. 

On the sidelines, the babies of the team were still indisposed.

“Your leg’s looking a lot better,” Wonpil smiled at the younger boy. “How’s it feeling?”

“Yeah, better,” Dowoon replied. His hand instinctively moved to hold his shin, wincing a little as he did.

“It was nice having the Christmas break to help you recover, then,” Wonpil said, and gave a little nudge.

Dowoon’s crossed arms and tired expression told Wonpil they weren’t of completely the same opinion, and it wasn’t very hard to see why. The boy was probably much more concerned about returning to the team than his own leg, if the frustration whenever he talked about it was anything to go by. Dowoon was angry at himself for getting hurt, inconveniencing the team and missing out. 

He seemed all too comfortable with placing the blame on himself.

“You know,” Wonpil started, with his hand awkwardly rubbing his neck, “you should be really patient with it. Give it a lot of time to heal.  _ Hope _ that it’ll take a long time to heal.”

Dowoon looked at Wonpil in bewilderment. Uh, that was the  _ opposite _ of what Dowoon wanted?

“If you want the recovery to take a long time, then it’ll go by fast,” Wonpil continued.

Okay, this was making less and less sense.

“That’s just how it works! Trust me… The more you want something, the less life will want to give it to you. You end up with the opposite of whatever you were hoping for.”

In a very odd way, it made perfect sense. It was something that should have sounded really stupid, like a government conspiracy or the type of thing your aunt tells you when she’s being a wise drunk. But the more he thought about it, the more Dowoon understood precisely that phenomenon Wonpil was talking about.

Wonpil laughed, “If you’d give it time, you could be looking at a recovery faster than Usain Bolt’s 200 meter dash.”

The other boy narrowed his eyes.  _ Since when does he know about sports? Like, any? _

“That’s right,” Wonpil defended, as if he’d read his mind, “I know my stuff! I did that for you, kid. I’ve been practicing my sport fun facts. I’m, like, Michael Phelps.” 

Pause for dramatic effect.

“You could say,” he began again, “this was a deep  _ dive _ into unknown territory for me.” 

Wonpil looked pretty pleased with himself. Dowoon’s eye might have started twitching.

“Please stop,” he managed, the end trailing into a giggle. 

“Get it?!  _ Dive _ ? Because he’s a  _ swimmer _ ? And he  _ dives _ ?!” 

“Thank you. It was terrible.”

Wonpil glanced at Dowoon from the corner of his eye, smirking when he noticed him looking away with a smile tugging at his lips.

It had been a steady, uphill battle, but slowly Dowoon’s walls were coming down- Wonpil could feel it. True, they’d yet to have a particularly deep conversation- though… was talking about a devastating crush and how its festering in the most vulnerable part of Wonpil’s heart was exposing deep-rooted inferiority issues?

...

Nah.

Mostly it was really just him rambling and Dowoon listening. Whenever he’d start speaking, completely out of nowhere, Dowoon would do a thing. He wouldn’t look up, or say anything. He’d just slow down whatever he was doing before, and tilt his head so that his ear was facing Wonpil.

It was more than Wonpil would ever ask for, but sometimes it seemed like Dowoon actually cared about what he had to say.After a long day, it did feel nice to have this quiet confidante. A person to pay some attention. 

As for Dowoon… Well, he was starting to have some thoughts of his own about it all.

Wonpil hugged his knees up to his chest and let his eyes roam the open gym space.

A shadow passed over his face, and it didn’t escape Dowoon. Something about the indestructible smile on Wonpil’s face and  _ that look _ made him feel uneasy.  It was like there was always something darker lurking behind Wonpil’s crescented eyes. 

What it was, no one would ever know until Wonpil wanted them to know.

See, it was this trait that many people don’t, could never, have: the ability to put others before themselves, wholeheartedly. It was a gift, to be sure. But nothing in excess is ever good. 

It took a while to sort it all out on his phone, but when Dowoon was done he tapped the edge of his iphone against Wonpil’s forearm:

“You… mentioned your dog was a brown cavapoo…”

There it was, Dowoon’s lockscreen. Now a perfectly centered picture of a brown puppy staring right into the camera. It had distinctively wavy hair and black eyes. Its fur was a little lighter than Choco’s, more caramel than chocolate-y, but it was a start.

Wonpil’s heart squeezed, and he cooed at the picture. 

Dowoon exhaled a sigh of relief.

“It’s so cute! Not as cute as my Choco, but that’s a given,” Wonpil pointed out, staring at the phone and leaning his chin atop his kneecaps. “I could talk about her for hours, you know, you shouldn’t have done this.”

Wonpil shook his head, laughing in disbelief at Dowoon’s gesture. 

“Talk about her then,” Dowoon said quickly. Almost as if he was trying to keep Wonpil occupied, keep him talking.

“Well for starters, her fur is a little darker than the one you have here,” he started with a smile, still looking at the picture. “But the eyes are the same. Huge and round and black. It freaks me out a little, but sometimes when she looks at me I feel like she’s staring right through me and knows everything about me.”

Dowoon couldn’t say he knew the feeling. 

“Do you have a dog, Dowoon-ah? You seem like a dog person.”

He shook his head no. 

“Well it’s something really special. I think that’s why people always confess to their pets; they bare their hearts to them because they know it wouldn’t make a difference. Your dog will always love you, no matter what you ever did or said.” 

Somewhere along the way, his body had turned toward Dowoon and away from the gym crowd. 

“But it’s... still not the same as a person. A dog couldn’t spill my secrets to anyone. Well, maybe the neighborhood dogs, but that I’ll never know. But a person  _ could _ , if they wanted to. For them not to do it… It’s what makes that kind of interpersonal trust so meaningful.” Wonpi nodded rounding the corner of his last thought, as if he was sorting out his own words, and what he felt about them, as he went along, too.

A comfortable silence followed, the distant raucous of class filling the background. Dowoon thought hard about what he’d been told, and found himself suddenly longing for a relationship like that, from these few simple words. 

“What I’m trying to say is,” Wonpil continued after hesitation, “thank you.”

“Thank you…?”

“For listening. Even though I kind of forced you to,” he laughed sheepishly. “And for keeping it all between us.”

It hadn’t even crossed Dowoon’s mind to go spreading rumors about what Wonpil had been talking about. There was really nothing to thank. Besides, who would he have went to?

But it looked like it meant a lot to Wonpil, and what would have seemed negligible to Dowoon suddenly became a big deal. And he didn’t know how to approach it.

“Y-yeah, “ he mumbled, looking down and pulling his phone back.

“Wait-!” 

Wonpil took the younger’s wrist, excitedly swooping the phone out of his grasp and and typing away at something. 

“Here,” he eventually said, returning the device, “I put in my number. If you ever need something, you know… just let me know!” 

Dowoon looked down at his phone like it was his first time ever laying eyes on it, fascinated and confused. He felt the ugly, but familiar, feeling of suspiciousness rise up in his stomach, but also the inexplicable urge to smile. 

“I can’t just have myself doing all the talking. So if you feel comfortable, I’d be happy to listen. I texted myself, so that I’d have your number, too! I hope that’s okay,” Dowoon heard Wonpil say.

Everything about the exchange was gentle, almost like it was unfolding in slow motion. Comforting and natural, and completely new.

“That’s fine,” he replied. 

There was something odd about Wonpil. Did people like this really exist? 

_ Different _ was maybe more the word he was looking for. It was hard to think of it as something bad though, Dowoon was realizing.

\----------

It was truly a wonder how Sungjin could run his hand through his hair once every ten minutes and still possess only the casual gleam of well-conditioned hair. Instead of looking like a greasy rat, as Wonpil did right now in the library.

School work was back in full swing, wasting no time even right after Christmas break. And Wonpil was wasting no time slipping back into his unhealthy sleeping habits. 

Boy, was it showing!

He hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep, and he had barely half a mind to change out of his pajamas that morning. There was a dull buzzing sound constantly trumming behind Wonpil’s ear. Was that normal? He sure hopes so!

It certainly hadn’t helped that Sungjin was up late, too. Texting him. About Jiwoo. While Wonpil had been up, thinking about Sungjin. Quite ironic, Wonpil could tell God was having fun with this one.

Wonpil absentmindedly watched Sungjin stretch his arms out, roll his head around. His neck was on full display, and he sighed so deeply Wonpil had to turn away because it almost looked sexual. 

Um, okay. That was hot?  _ Thanks a lot??? _   Cool.

There was a lump in Wonpil’s throat when Sungjin looked at him in that moment, his eyes lidded and lazy, so unlike their signature doe shape. Wonpil felt his literal insides jump.

In a split second though, with a change of his head’s angle, Sungjin was back to normal. Obviously it hasn’t been voluntary then. A glance while stretching his neck, the upward tilt of his head, the tired eyes; they all combined to form a completely unexpected image that Wonpil will probably never be able to erase from his memory. Not… that he’d want to.

Speaking of masturbation fuel, Sungjin also got an  _ undercut _ . Lord have mercy.

“How’d you do on your midterms, Wonpilie?” 

“Huh?”

“Your midterms?”

“Oh,” Wonpil sounded, “I did okay… Not bad but could have gone better.”

Sungjin hummed in acknowledgement. “I get that. Any particular reason for that?”

“Just a lot of things on my mind, hyung.”

“Well,” Sungjin started, “I know you’re doing your best, and that’s all that matters.”

“Thanks, Sungjin-hyung. Chemistry is hard. I don’t get why you love it so much.”

“Isn’t it so interesting though?! It’s very detail-oriented. I’m very detail-oriented, you know,” Sungjin smiled confidently.

Wonpil had to laugh. “Oh, really?”

“Yes really,” Sungjin said, sticking out his tongue. 

“You’d be surprised…” he couldn’t stop himself from mumbling.

“Hmm?”

“So you were telling me you’re going to ask her on a date, huh? Jiwoo-noona?” 

“Ah, yeah!” Sungjin’s entire face lit up like stars just then. Now there’s a subject he could go hours talking about.

“Well,” Wonpil said, melting a little at the smile on the other boy’s face, “how do you feel!”

“Good? I feel all weird in my stomach and when I think about it I start to sweat. But in a good way.” A feeling both friends knew well.

“You’ll do great!” Wonpil encouraged. For a moment, he’d gotten swept up in Sungjin’s happiness that he forgot himself in it. “She has eyes, hyung. She’ll say yes.”

A telltale rush of red faintly painted itself on Sungjin’s cheeks.

\----------

Jae reached the epiphany that resting his gangly limb on Wonpil’s shoulder would be much more fun than keeping it at his side. 

Plus it would annoy Wonpil. Which obviously made it  _ even _ more fun.

So he swung his arm over the shorter boy’s shoulder, and let it hang there limply. Jae will admit he’d used unnecessary force to plop it there, but what’s the fun in being taller than all your friends if you can’t use it against them?

Wonpil groaned out, “Hyung!”

“Wonpil-ah!” Jae mimicked.

Wonpil tilted his head up to look at Jae with a disapproving look, slapping the hand that was hanging off his shoulder. 

“Yow!” Jae pouted, “You have a mean slap for someone so angelic.”

“It somehow still never seems to deter you,” Wonpil pointed out. 

“Perseverance…” 

From across the long stretch of hallway Jae could make out Brian, tall and darkly dressed (what else would be expected?) walking toward them. 

“Brian-ah, you’re looking chipper as always,” Jae smirked at him when they came closer.

At that, Brian gave a fake smile, “I see getting piss drunk hasn’t changed your terrible sense of humour. Unfortunately.”

Wonpil nodded solemnly. 

“Hey! Who was the one who took care of you and tucked you into bed when you so recklessly got drunk at the party? Me,” Jae said proudly.

Brian looked seriously at Wonpil. “Is he brain dead? Bitch  _ I _ was the one who took  _ your _ sorry ass home. Just be happy you didn’t throw up in my car because I would have left you on the curb.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

“Besides, if you’d thrown up I  _ definitely _ would not have let you-” 

Brian coughed really loudly. 

“-...anywhere near me.”

Jae smiled sweetly, his usual mockery. “Okay, okay. Thank you. For taking care of me. You didn’t have to do any of it, and I’m kind of surprised you did, but thank you. Really!”

“Yes, thank you for taking care of him. He would have died by himself,” Wonpil added very helpfully.

“Yeah,” Brian responded awkwardly. “Thanks for inviting me.”

Jae waved it off, and he and Wonpil started back up on their original path, opposite Brian’s direction. He didn’t stop his hand from reaching out to pat Brian’s bicep while passing by:

“That’s what friends are for.”

It was a cheesy thing to say, but so very Jae. A teasing yet so comforting comment that made someone feel so special.

Soon after, Brian’s bottom lip felt a sharp sting. He realized it was the recovering scar of his split lip opening back up from the strain of smiling.

\----------

A common theme these past few days was feeling sad. Not exactly ideal, right?

Usually Wonpil knew what was to blame for his blues; recently, he’d gained a plethora of reasons to choose from on why he was sad. 

But it was just an inescapable sort of melancholy now, one that would always loiter in the back, a friend he couldn’t escape. Putting a damper on all things done, said, perceived. 

Perhaps it was a combination of everything all at once, making the feeling that much more persistent. Schoolwork, fatigue, sleep deprivation, his injury. Sungjin. Who knew sadness could be so tiresome.

Wonpil didn’t really know what to do with himself. His mind was humming with static, unable to get over itself yet fully aware of the dilemma. 

So that’s how Wonpil ended up on the phone with Dowoon.

Completely impulsively, lying on his bed at eight in the afternoon. He called Dowoon’s number, the same number he’d only been given (well, by himself) a few days earlier. 

A relationship’s gotta start somehow.

“Hello?”

“Dowoon-ah? Hi, it’s Wonpil!”

Pause. “I know.” 

“Right,” he laughed, “I was wondering, if you could, just maybe-”

“What’s wrong?” Dowoon asked plainly, prompting Wonpil to talk about what was clearly bothering him.

“Well if you’re busy-”

“I’m not. Go on.”

Wonpil sighed. The floodgates were almost open, and he was worried he’d let everything,  _ everything _ , spill out.

Afterall, talking to Dowoon had become all too easy for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I HATE TECHNOLOGY WITH EVERY FIBER OF MY BEING. hi i know i, like, died but i literally had to rewrite this whole chapter foUR MF TIMES because google docs loves being a little bitch and finals have broken me :D I AM SO SORRY sdkjskefj one more week and i'll be freeeeee


	12. An unlikely match

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i must apologize for my massive lateness. i've been going through some tough personal/family dealings recently, but i'm really so so happy to be back, i really missed this. please be extra patient with me, i want to put out my best work bc i really value you all and the story, i love you guys srsly <3

“You should go study, and I’ll take a nap, okay?”

“You said that last time. And came to gym the next day with a headache because you hadn’t slept again,” Dowoon dutifully reminded.

“See,” Wonpil sighed on the other line, “how can you remember _that_ and not the fact that you have an exam tomorrow?”

No response. _Brat_.

“Fine, fine! I’ll sleep, enough of your quiet judgement. I can feel it through the phone,” Wonpil gave in, laughing.

“Good.”

“Bye, Dowoonie,” he said, noting the faint hum from the other boy as he ended the call.

There was the sound of the clock hand ticking away, distinct now in the silence. Wonpil looked over- eleven o’clock.

“Ah, that kid,” he laughed to himself. Was he really about to go to sleep four hours before the unofficial bedtime Wonpil had created for himself this past month?

Yes. Yes, he was, because he didn’t want the silent treatment from Dowoon again.

Something turned over in Wonpil’s gut thinking about the Dowoon from a few weeks ago, so reserved and unwilling to interact. He hoped he’d never have to see him like that ever again. _This_ Dowoon, the smart, talented, hardworking young man who quietly cared, was too precious to keep locked away.

He pulled his blankets snuggly up to his chin, curling into himself. His mind was swarming with many thoughts, making it hard to focus, and he could feel sleep tugging at his sleeve.

Valentine’s Day was but days away, and Wonpil felt something else tug at his sleeve, something more lonely and urgent. He pondered how different the day would be this year, and how begrudgingly it would still be the same.

But his eyes closed eventually, welcoming an unusually good night’s rest with open arms.

\----------

Brian noticed the gum stuck to his shoe too little too late, and you’re wrong if you think he was going to pick it off now. He’d probably give it to one of the maids at home to clean, but the thought of dragging that sticky residue along with him the rest of this day was appalling.

He just wished this day would end already.

Brian lowered himself onto his seat, the commotion around him only aggravating this headache. He wouldn’t even be able to enjoy Music Theory, at this rate. He’s totally allowed to slack off though, considering his and Jae’s project ended up getting a perfect score. Which is a lot more than he could say about literally every other person taking the course.

Brian was about to put his head down, tired of people’s bland Instagram stories on his phone, to savor the three minutes before class in slumber. When he heard a shrill whine.

_God, please, no._

“Dowoon-oppa, you won’t look at me? Is something wrong?” a girl pleaded. Regretfully, Brian watched her and her _gang_ encircle Dowoon, who frankly looked pitiful like this.

His head was lying square on the desk, arms in his lap. There was something unnatural about the position, stiff (but then again, when was Dowoon not stiff?). He almost resembled a doll or marionette, as if someone had literally dropped him there.

The girl waved her hand in front of his face, getting closer and closer. Brian was frankly getting uncomfortable just watching it happen. An oddly brotherly feeling rose in him then, for just a second, and he didn’t bother thinking about his language when he spoke up:

“You’re what’s wrong. Leave the kid alone.”

If they weren’t in a school Brian thought the girl might have actually tried strangling him.

“Who the fuck asked for _your_ opinion?” she hissed, turning on him fiercely. “Oh right, _no one_.”

“Yeah,” piped up one of the other girls, “keep to your own business. We know our oppa better than anyone. You don’t even have friends! What makes you think you even know how to take care of someone?”

Brian had to laugh. _Know him better than anyone_ ? These bitches didn’t know the first thing about Dowoon, save the fact that they really really _really_ want to have sex with him.

So he got up, because honestly, fuck that. His fuse was already cut way too short, he wasn’t about to stay here with the pitchy yells and petty death threats the girls were gesturing at him. He’d find something to do loitering around the hallway. Anything was better than whatever was happening in that room, anyway.

A mere twenty seconds of interacting with those girls and Brian would sooner rip his hair out than try it again. He couldn’t imagine the suffocating burden of being their only care in the world, all the time.

Out of the corner of his eye, just as he was leaving the room, Brian thought he saw Dowoon getting up. It was no relief to see the girls chase after him, like pups.

Brian wasn’t someone who could easily be distracted, so it came as a startle when he ran straight into Jae’s gangly body, somewhere down the hallway. He realized that in the back of his head, he’d still been mulling over Dowoon.

“If you were a little taller I’d say you were going straight in for a smooch,” Jae teased. “Or should I say, _gay_ in.”

Brian shuddered. “Aw hyung, your inferiority complex is showing. We have a _one_ inch difference, _maximum_.”

“Height is the only thing you could say that about,” he winked, moving in a pinch closer.

What a baseless claim, Brian thought. Brian had pretty big hands! And you know what they say about big hands…

His tongue was ready to roll out some nasty insults when his eyes glossed over a girl’s offended visage, a little over Jae’s shoulder and leaning against a locker, as if it was her dick Jae had dishonored.

The look of disgust was no cause for concern to Brian, pretty standard actually. But when her gaze drifted and focused on Jae, just as venomous…

A knee-jerk reaction from the depths of Brian’s subconscious forced him to take a step back, the smile on Jae’s face turning confused. Brian stepped past the boy, biting his lip to keep from saying anything else.

Knuckles white, he felt his hands curl into balls. The heart lodged in his throat panged with guilt, yet, still, the small recognition of his unwillingness to give in and give up.

\----------

Okay, okay.

Truth be told, Wonpil had been faking pain in his wrist for weeks now, to stay out of gym with Dowoon. And Dowoon knew it, too.

Perhaps Wonpil did it for selfish reasons, or to keep the kid company. Maybe equal parts of both. Maybe a tiny part of Wonpil worried that they’d drift apart if he left. That, to Dowoon, this was all just _convenient_ , and would end once it stopped being just that.

A voice in Wonpil’s mind that he couldn’t recall ever hearing before reminded him to put on his big boy pants and give himself some credit. Gently.

Alas, he had to return to the team. He’d weaseled his way out of more than a month’s worth of gym class, and the practice tournaments were soon coming to an end. The real deal would start, and Wonpil would never forgive himself if his absence, however inconsequential and minor in his own opinion, contributed to Sungjin losing the chance to compete in the Spring sport festival.

Plus, he really probably needed the exercise anyway.

Jae’s voice blared next to his ear as he was pulled into a hug. “Finally! Our mascot is back.”

“Hey! I can go back, you know,” Wonpil warned.

“Don’t listen to him, Wonpilie,” Sungjin stepped in, giving a quick one-armed hug, “he’s just happy someone he can actually bully is here.”

“Bold of you to assume you’re not all wrapped around my fucking pinky finger,” Jae cared to point out.

Brian had to intervene. “Your life _revolves_ around us. Twenty minutes without anyone to troll and you’d be choking to death,” he said, standing with his hip jutting out.

“I don’t know what you mean at _all_.”

“Oh,” Brian continued, “so it wasn’t you who said, and I quote, ‘Give me attention! Why aren’t you laughing at my jokes, I’m _dying_!’ last week when Sungjin and I were ignoring you.”

“A-ha! So you _were_ doing it on purpose!” Jae yelled.

“Hold on,” Sungjin interrupted, “I might actually have a recording of him saying that.”

Sungjin scrolling through his phone, desperately holding in barks of laughter, was made a little more difficult as Jae launched himself at the friend, messily making grabs at his phone. Brian just… watched it all happen.

Wonpil hadn’t expected it, but a very warm feeling overcame him. Something he hadn’t even noticed he’d been missing, but that he didn’t want to ever lose now. The scene of Sungjin getting his hair pulled objectively shouldn’t have spurred this, but it felt homey, in the least weird and most comforting way possible.

“I missed you guys,” he settled on saying.

Jae slid off Sungjin’s back, whacking him over the head one last time, and made his way back over to Wonpil. “Us too, buddy,” he said with a pat on the back.

Even looking over at Brian, there was a smirk on his lips, proud, one could even say.

“So,” Sungjin said, picking up the forgotten basketball from the ground to start their warmup, “what are everyone’s plans for Valentine’s Day?”

“Just chilling,” Jae answered. Though, he had an idea, and he fleetingly wondered if the timing of his question would be too obvious when he turned to Brian and asked, “You wanna come over to my place?”

Brian nodded. More like shrugged, with some affirmation. Jae had a satisfied grin peeled over his face.

 _Odd_ , Wonpil thought.

“What about you, hyung,” Wonpil looked to Sungjin, “do you have any plans?” He knew the answer, or at least could make a reasonable guess. Still, he asks.

Apparently, Sungjin had a date with Jiwoo. His fourth one to be exact. It was, of course, going to be in the coffee shop that Wonpil recommended _he and Sungjin_ go to a few months ago. Naturally. Of course. _Just shoot him next time, thanks._

Jae’s hand flew up.

“Wait wait wait wait. Wait! You’re dating? My best friend? _And I wasn’t made aware of it?!_ ”

Sungjin had to fend off a second pounce from Jae. “We’re not dating! Yet!”

“Oh and I suppose your _dates_ aren’t really _dates_ either? Going to shop is still called shopping,” Jae threw back.

“Yes. No! I don’t know!” Sungjin, for the first time, looked small in front of Jae. “Noona says she doesn’t want to put a title on it yet.”

“Noona?! We’re from the same year!”

Sungjin blushed. “...She said she likes being called noona.” Wonpil felt like dying. So did Jae.

“I’m going to kill her. And you,” Jae promised.

“I think it’s cute,” Sungjin defended.

A small chuckle bubbled in Jae’s gut. Being in on the TeaTM did always bring him a special kind of joy. “Of course you’d think it’s cute. It’s called a _kink_ , Sungjin!”

Sungjin pretended he didn’t hear anything.

“She is getting the roast of a lifetime for this.”

“Hey, ” Sungjin said wildeyed for a moment, “you can’t tell her I told you! Don’t mess up my chance with her.”

Though Wonpil silently prayed he would.

“ _Me?!_ How dare you insinuate that,” Jae gasped.

“Don’t fight it, hyung,” Brian said, resting his arm across Jae’s shoulders.

“I _guess_ should be happy…” Jae conceded, “I can’t decide if you’re too good for her, or if she’s too good for you. You’re both too powerful.”

“Totally the latter,” Sungjin supplied without missing a beat, a lovesick smile on his face.

Jae thought about it for awhile. “Yeah, you’re _definitely_ too good for her,” he decided.

They burst out laughing.

\----------

In a most tragic but, at this point, not unexpected turn of events, Wonpil found himself sitting across Sungjin at the coffee shop.

Yes, the coffee shop you’re thinking of.

Well, not during the actual date. That would truly be devastating. Not to say that Wonpil didn’t feel imminent devastation looming over his shoulder. The inevitable moment when he’d have to leave because Jiwoo was to arrive any moment now, but… Yeah, let’s just ignore that for now.

He turned away from staring at the bright bouquet of flowers neatly on the floor by Sungjin’s feet, and the accompanying teddy bear.

“Enough about me,” Sungjin said, “how have you been, Wonpilie? No pain in your hand, right?”

“Oh, no! No, that’s been gone for a _while_ ,” Wonpil replied sheepishly.

“Your time out of practice must have been good while it lasted. We just wanted you back too much,” Sungjin said.

Wonpil let out a snort, “you didn’t need me then, and you still don’t need me now. Dowoon on the other hand...”

“Right, Dowoon said his leg is practically healed, he’ll be back with us by Monday,” Sungjin mumbled between chewing the cheesecake he and Wonpil had ordered. “Lucky that the swimming season starts next week, right? He’ll be all ready to join!”

“Yeah, it’s a relief. He’s been trying really hard in physical therapy to push the recovery along,” Wonpil responded.

“You know, you two seem to’ve gotten pretty close.” Even as his soccer captain, Sungjin hadn’t managed to do that with Dowoon. Really, no one had. “How’d that happen?”

The younger boy blushed, the flush well masked by the cafe’s dark lighting. He let the sound of firewood crackling from the fireplace fill the silence, and settled on a shrug.

Slowly but surely, Dowoon and Wonpil had gone from little-more-than-strangers to friends. _Great_ friends. Their first phone call was three hours long and filled with tears and sobs and a _lot_ of incoherent rambling.

Now? Phone calls were common routine. A few times a week, Wonpil would call up with not a single shred of hesitation, and feel his heart lift at the distinguishing click on the other end of the line, when Dowoon would always answer. Because he was always somehow _there_.

Dowoon also knew… everything. And if he was bothered by any of it at all, he was doing a splendid job of hiding it.

“Honestly, something’s been bugging me about Jiwoo,” Sungjin suddenly said.

“Is everything okay?”

“No yeah, I just- I don’t know what’s holding noona back,” Sungjin sighed, his eyes pleading for advice.

Wonpil leaned back in thought, tired but eager to comfort. “I remember overhearing her and Jae-hyung once, talking about someone she liked. That he’s on our gym team… And there’s really only you, hyung.”

Sungjin’s eyes widened like pearls. “Really! But… there’s Dowoon. And Jae? What about you,” he still hesitated.

“Trust me,” Wonpil said, “I’m not an option. As for Jae, they’re just best friends, and Dowoon is a _child_ to you senior folk.”

Sungjin snorted at that last bit.

A hopeful glint shined through him, and it was masochistic how much his smile made Wonpil happy.

“S-She said she’d do anything for him,” Wonpil couldn’t help from telling, a warm but empty feeling spreading through his chest to see Sungjin’s grin deepen.

A childlike giggle escaped the taller boy, and in those fleeting seconds as Wonpil watched, he settled on the worst part of this death sentence of a deal he’d locked himself in:

It wasn’t the double agent duty; serving his heart or serving Sungjin. Not Sungjin’s neglect. Or his painfully caring affection. Not even the unrequited love itself.

It was the sheer fact of knowing that Sungjin did have the capacity to love, to feel desperation and do the stupidest things because of it, all to impress _one_ person. Knowing that he had the capacity to love, just not Wonpil.

Sungjin wasn’t some smug alpha male who wouldn’t be tied down in a relationship, or simply someone who couldn’t be bothered by it. No, he _felt_ , just like Wonpil did. Just… for someone else.

Wonpil excused himself from the table, aching for a breath of air. He paid his part, offered his good luck to Sungjin, and bid him farewell. The faint sound of small bells twinkling echoed while Wonpil stepped out the door, into the freezing cold of February nights.

He thought his mind was playing tricks on him when he noticed Dowoon’s broad back leaning against a store window across the street. Odd timing, odd place.

A neon sign of the bookstore’s Valentine’s Day decorations burned brightly above him. The red light illuminating his face in the most artistic way was worthy of being in some professional photography portfolio. Jesus, did he always have to look like a mannequin?

The boy’s eyes widened in the slightest when he took notice of Wonpil making his way over, too preoccupied with his phone to realize someone had gotten close until Wonpil was barely two feet away.

“I didn’t know you came here,” Wonpil remarked.

Dowoon’s body relaxed. He hummed and pointed to the shop’s interior through the window, “I’ve been inside for a while now, I was just taking a call.”

“Anything important?”

“Not to me,” Dowoon answered. “What are you doing here?”

“Ah,” Wonpil stuttered, and looked around aimlessly, “nothing.” He paused. “You know, you look really handsome under the light. Makes your eyes pop,” Wonpil tried to say.

At first, he’d thought it made Dowoon feel shy when he turned his head down at the comment. But it didn’t take long to figure out it was _discomfort_. Dowoon was… uncomfortable?

Dowoon was very sensitive, Wonpil had come to realize. Which was a mystery in itself, considering how lukewarm his attitude seemed to be most of the time. He guesses it made Dowoon’s visible emotions all the more stark. What’s more: those occasional displays of emotion were cracks in the wall of a very disciplined, _learned_ indifference, not of a sincere indifference.

Otherwise, he wouldn’t react in this way for seemingly no reason. Small and random instances that didn’t really make sense… upsetting him so visibly, killing the mood sometimes.

...Right?

“Everything okay?” Wonpil encouraged Dowoon to look at him.

And with a heavy breath, Dowoon shook his head. “It’s nothing,” he said, almost debating the answer. Looks like Wonpil wasn’t the only one having a rough night.

He knew he could force it out of Dowoon; afterall, Dowoon was much more pliant under a caring hand. But it would have felt wrong to insist, knowing how hard it was for the boy to talk things out, regardless of whether he eventually did or not.

In the bookstore, they arrived at the cozy corner where Dowoon had been lounging; they settled down on the ground, silently. Wonpil looked over at Dowoon, and Dowoon looked at Wonpil.

They were really quite close to each other. Wonpil took note of the pale mole on Dowoon’s cheek, by his nose bridge, which he’d never noticed before… It suited him, Wonpil thought.

_What could Dowoon possibly be doing here at seven in the afternoon? Alone, in a random bookstore?_

“My parents and I were arguing,” Dowoon began as if he’d read Wonpil’s mind, “and they wouldn’t listen to me, so I left. For a bit.”

Wonpil’s heart dropped. “You’re not in any danger, are you? Did they hurt you?”

“No, nothing like that,” Dowoon reacted quickly. “Just… really exhausting to deal with,” he said meekly.

“And you drove here? By yourself?”

“Not- Well, I was driven.”

“By your _parents_?”

“No,” Dowoon laughed for the first time, “of course not my _parents_.”

But he struggled to explain, chewing on his lip.

“My… chauffeur.”

Wonpil did his best to control the expressions on his face when he heard that because Dowoon was clearly uncomfortable and in turmoil, but…

A _whole_ chauffeur.

He had a _private_ _chauffeur_.

Oh, so Dowoon’s _loaded_ loaded. Noted.

Wonpil made an understanding hum.

“They expect things from me because of how I am… How I look… And I don’t want those things for myself.”

Dowoon looked into Wonpil’s eyes, wide eyes and vaguely frowning features.

“When do family interests get to overrule mine?”

“I…” Wonpil squirmed, “I don’t know, Dowoonie.”

“Always is my parents’ answer. What benefits the family name benefits you, they’d say.”

“Hey, what benefits you benefits you. That much I know.” Wonpil held Dowoon’s hand. It was really warm. “Your whole life isn’t theirs to dictate. Or anyone else’s. It is yours.”

“It’s harder than that,” Dowoon said.

“Well what do _you_ want?”

“...Something that they don’t.”

And the conversation slid to an end. It was too vague and too brief for the immense burden that Dowoon was always pulling, but that was Dowoon for you.

It’s unclear if they both realized that they’d scootched closer to each other in that small time of the conversation. But they stayed that way, even welcoming the warmth.

Just two boys, on Valentine’s Day night, sitting shoulder-to-shoulder in the oddly dim-lit corner of an empty bookstore.

\----------

“You’re a terrible person,” Brian said. He crossed his arms, refusing the box.

“It’s a _gift_ , how rude of you to decline it. I’m hurt.”

“That’s chocolate,” Brian croaked.

Jae’s head cocked to the left. “Is it?”

“A heart-shaped box. On _Valentine’s Day_ . There’s chocolates in there and I know you know I _love_ chocolate and you’re such a fucking asshole for tempting me with them,” he accused.

“Mmm, it might be macaroons,” Jae defended, innocent as the devil, “you never know! Or mini quiche! Quiches? Why does that sound wrong-”

“Liar!” Brian pressed himself further into the couch arm, as far away from the box as possible. “How about _you_ eat them, huh? Maybe you’ll finally gain some weight, you damn beanpole.”

“My godly metabolism digresses, my love.”

Brian realized his eyes hadn’t left the perfect red ribbon atop the heart for, uh, way too long. Any more and Brian might make a jump for it.

“One little piece,” Jae sang, “just one~”

“It’s never just one. It’ll never be just one chocolate for me.” Brian’s fingers would start twitching any second now. Twelve days without sweets and he was having fucking withdrawal symptoms. What was he, five?

“But you deserve it! Going to the gym every day, working out…”

“The only thing I deserve is the right to kill you. What good is the gym after I scarf down twenty-two of those chunks of heaven in one sitting, hm?” he heard himself persist. Brian thinks he was really trying to convince himself, more than Jae.

“I’ll tell you what. I give you one piece now, and I’ll keep the box. To give to you one at a time, over time,” Jae suggested.

Brian huffed, but it didn’t take long before his palm bolted out toward Jae, waiting for a treat. Jae smiled widely. He pulled the ribbon undone, presenting the opened box to his crush.

A pained yelp left Brian’s throat, Options, so many options.

When he realized that _chocolate is chocolate_ and even a drop of it right now could probably make him cry, he closed his eyes, picked a random one, and popped it in his mouth. His moan was embarrassing for sure, but not unwarranted.

 _Ooh_ , that went straight to Jae’s crotch.

Jae swore, he hadn’t planned that part. He just wanted to treat Brian to something nice! _Coincidentally_ on Valentine’s Day. Which is completely beside the point.

He had half a mind to swat Brian’s hand away when it snaked closer for a second piece, slapping the cover back onto the box.

“Thank you. Also, I hate you. A lot,” Brian muttered.

“You’re very welcome,” Jae said, his heart so full to see Brian’s awkward smile. “Did you just orgasm, buddy?”

The glare he got was vicious. “Just a little,” he added later. Jae’s head rolled back instinctually with a cackle.

“I’d keep chocolate on me all the time if I knew how addicted you are to it,” he said.

“That’s called enabling, actually.”

“I mean you’d be chasing after me like a puppy in the hallways,” Jae went on, ignoring Brian’s lack of vision. He smirked and said, “Who’d have thought?”

“Actually, that reminds me,” Brian interrupted their airy mood. “We need to talk.”

Jae sobered up quickly; that was Brian’s serious voice, cold as ice.

“We’ve been hanging out a lot. In school, and outside,” he began, stern-faced. There was a hint of pain in his face, too.

The older boy hummed, baffled by the direction this conversation took. “I don’t see an issue..?”

“People see us together now, being friendly. We became _friends_.”

“Seriously, where is this going?” Jae didn’t like the way Brian was talking, as if being friends was some kind of inconvenience. He had a bad feeling in his stomach and it was making him feel sick.

“Just-! Look. I know you have no idea what it’s like being disliked because you run the school, but I do,” he said with frustration creeping in his voice and face, sighing. “I’m not stupid. I see the way people have been looking at you sometimes… Like they’re waiting for you to mess up, because now they have a reason to hate you. Because of me.”

Jae was all furrowed eyebrows and confusion. He really did have no idea.

“They don’t like that we’re friends,” Brian said. “They probably think I don’t deserve friends, much less a _gem_ like you,” he added venomously.

“Stop talking like that.”

“Most hate me in that school. I’m the fag, afterall. Not the only one, that’s statistically impossible. But the only one who’ll admit it, so I get the blame.”

“Don’t say that,” Jae said softly.

“Why not? It’s true! What,” Brian looked at Jae with tiredness weighing him down, “you don’t like me saying that? That’s reality. And you don’t know what it’s like to be hated, really hated, because all you’ve ever been is loved. Adored, _admired_ . You have no idea the way people would look at you or talk to you all the time, with so much disgust and malice. The _decisions_ you’re forced to make in that position.”

There was a lot of pain in Brian’s voice, so much anger and sadness and… fear.

“Before long they’ll be taking out all that hatred they have for me on you. I think I’ve taught them plenty times that their bullshit won’t intimidate me. But I’ve always been alone, with nothing to lose, and I couldn’t care less what terrible people thought of me. I wanted to hurt them the same way they were trying to hurt me, I wanted to show them that they couldn’t shame me for who I am, make them feel small and worthless.

“And for a long time, it worked. They give me trouble sometimes, but they’ve gotten tired. It’s not fun picking on someone who won’t budge. But now,” Brian hesitated, “I have you. They’ll use someone I care about to hurt me. And it’ll work.”

“I think that’s a little extreme-”

“Really? Because it’s happened to me before.”

Jae’s eyes snapped up to Brian. “What?”

Brian’s eyes went wide for a split second, like he just realized what he’d been talking about. “Did it ever occur to you that there might be a reason I’m so unapproachable, or mean?”

“Is this a trick question,” Jae asked, still trying to lighten the mood.

Brian’s shoulders were hung low, droopy.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Jae rushed to say. He pushed himself closer to Brian on the couch and asked softly, “What happened to you?”

The other boy was frowning deeply, making lines in his forehead that had no place on a young boy like him.

“Please,” Jae prodded.

“It was a really long time ago… I didn’t always know it was a bad thing to be gay. So when I finally figured out why I’d picture the shirtless guy I saw at the beach once whenever I felt like jacking off, I just told people, when it came up. I was thirteen, fourteen? My classmates didn’t take it nearly as well as my best friend, Yejoon.”

“At least you had someone to support you, that’s good!”

“Yeah, and he got nothing but shit for it.” Brian’s fist was closed tight, pale knuckles and bulging veins. “My classmates realized I didn’t give a rat’s ass about whatever nasty shit they had to say to me, because I’d ignore them all. All the name calling and confrontation, it bothered me of course, but I never _ever_ let it show. Because at the end of the day, I still didn’t care.

“They went to Yejoon, after awhile. Must have figured I’d finally care if it was my best friend they were tormenting. Every day they’d trip him, insult him with the cruelest things you’ve ever heard, words adults won’t even say because they’re just too much.”

Jae didn’t know whether he should feel bad for thinking this, but it occurred to him that this almost sounded like a movie. The fact that things like this happened, in _real_ life, was practically unimaginable. It was proper torture, _pure evil_ shit.

“And this was the entire school’s doing! It started out with the bold few, but everyone joined in eventually, whether it was dirty looks. or ugly rumors. Mob mentality, maybe? The final effect was terrifying, and being on the receiving end was even scarier. Our friends dropped us; who’d wanna be friends with the _villain_ of a whole school. And see, Yejoon was a lot more sensitive than I…”

It was a small detail, but Brian couldn’t say “is”, Yejoon _is_ a lot more sensitive.

That’s because he didn’t know what Yejoonie was like now. They hadn’t spoken since four years ago when he was bawling his eyes out, telling Brian they couldn’t be friends anymore. That he couldn’t take it.

So many years of friendship, laughter and tears and joy together, gone in a snap.

“All of my burdens he had to bear. I don’t blame him for coming to hate me, his life became a living hell because of who I am. My parents eventually bought a bigger and better house in another town, so we moved. Things worked out for me. I left. But I don’t know what happened to Yejoon, I just left him there.”

There was a lot of silence, and then a weighty sigh.

“I don’t want you to be another Yejoon,” Brian said, looking at Jae with upturned, sad brows. It was a very vulnerable moment, shocking them both.

“I think you underestimate my influence in the school.”

“I think _you_ underestimate people’s malice. I already see it happening!”

Jae was about to defend himself when Brian continued:

“I’m mean and a dick because I don’t _want_ friends. I’m just so _angry_ , I don’t want to be happy. I can’t give anyone the chance to hurt someone else in my place. What kind of person would I be if I willingly befriended anyone, knowing the kind of torture they’d face for me?”

Jae cupped Brian’s downturned face and felt his jaw clench. “A human one,” he suggested, smiling sadly. “I can’t believe you’d do that to yourself all these years. Not even talking to anyone, if you weren’t fighting them of course.”

There was a pause.

“You were just… alone.”

It drove a dagger through Jae’s heart to finally see the whole picture. Just a tiny shift in perspective, and suddenly it all became so sad. And so clear.

“Listen to me. No one’s gonna fuckin’ stop me from being your friend,” Jae declared, moving his thumb to dab away a stray tear that had fallen down Brian’s cheek. “Not even you.”


	13. Important dates for important boys

Dowoon’s eyes opened, taking in the pretty sight of a pale grey sky. He felt the breeze tickle his skin, humid from morning showers. He pushed himself onto the half-wall that separated the school’s roof and a forty foot drop to the pavement below, sitting on the ledge. 

He listened to the soft beat of drums playing through his earbuds. He felt the beat reverberate through his eardrums and echo in his head. His fingers kept time with the music. The cool plastic of his earbuds’ volume adjuster would sometimes graze against his warmer neck when he swayed his head, but he hardly noticed. He could imagine himself anywhere else right now, the dark backsides of his eyelids painting fantastic scenes of bright lights; a stage, a boy, and his drums.

In this moment, he was exactly who he wanted to be.

The next time Dowoon’s eyes opened, the sight wasn’t as pleasant as the last time. 

“For you,” a girl giggled, holding out a perfectly wrapped box to Dowoon, standing in front of him with only a few feet to spare. Her somewhat startled look told him she’d been here for some time, while Dowoon’s eyes were closed.  _ How long have I been sitting here? _

“Happy birthday!” the three other girls behind her cheered. They had big smiles on their faces, none as hopeful as the girl with the gift.

_ Ah, right _ .

She had long black hair, pretty, pin-straight. Not a single strand out of place, you would have thought it was  _ her _ birthday. A pinched nose stood above thin lips, stretched into that smile. 

He couldn’t stand it. 

Without as much as a word, Dowoon jumped down from the ledge, and walked. Past the girl, past the gift and its unsubtle heart-themed wrapping, past the faint gasps and sighs, past his place of peace. He could imagine what the girl’s face must look like. He’d seen faces like it a thousand times over- and ignored each one.

A part of him would sometimes regret the way he naturally reacted to these scenarios, call it guilt, or doubt. But a much bigger part reminded him that these “fans” had little more to say about him besides his looks. And suddenly, he didn’t feel bad anymore.

Dowoon pushed against the roof’s door with a little more force than necessary, and he felt a lapse of heavy resistance to the push, just a second and it was gone. He heard a grunt echo from behind the door, and he quickly poked his head through the crack to inspect the damage, and he saw the crown of someone’s head, bent over forward.

“Why would you swing the door open like that, it’s not even heavy,” Wonpil whined, holding his head in his hands.

“I’m sorry,” Dowoon flushed. Good, he just  _ slammed _ a door into his friend’s forehead. 

Wonpil mumbled something incoherent under his breath, like a soft string of curses, before pulling himself upright abruptly. He looked right at (through) Dowoon.

“What were you doing up here for so long?” Wonpil was in Mom Interrogation mode now.

“Nothing.”

Wonpil’s right hip popped as he shifted his weight, waiting for a proper answer.

“...Listening to music.”

“Well you got me worried, you’ll get sick from the cold being out there so long,” he chastised, pulling off his scarf to wrap it around Dowoon’s neck instead. It was almost suffocating Dowoon. Maybe intentionally. 

Wonpil cupped his hands over the younger boy’s ears, fighting against their icy feeling to warm them. All the while Dowoon looked half embarrassed, half used to it. 

“Well what were you doing back there anyway,” he asked Wonpil, trying to defend himself for the attack on his head.

“I came looking for you!”

“You did?”

“Of course,” Wonpil said without much thought. 

Dowoon’s shoulders had come up, practically cradling Wonpil’s hands over his ears. It was a strange but not unwelcome feeling to have Wonpil’s hands so close. Actually, it was surprisingly comforting.

“Come on, let’s go back downstairs before I flick you in the forehead for stressing me out,” the junior threatened, ushering their tangled bodies down the flight of stairs. “I thought you’d fallen off the side of the building!”

Dowoon scoffed. “I’d have taken Jae down with me if I was planning that.”

“Hey! He’s your hyung, have some respect.”

“...”

“But I agree.”

Dowoon’s chuckle bounced off the bare walls, taking the delightful sound and multiplying it until it finally sounded loud and unreserved, for the first time.

Wonpil looked back at Dowoon’s smile, in all its charm, and felt the wisps of a smile stretch his own cheeks. It was a really really pretty smile. 

He missed a step on the stairs while he was doing that and almost sent himself and Dowoon plummeting to a very shameful death on a  _ high school staircase _ , of all places, but that’s not important.   
  


 

“Happy Birthday!” the corners of Wonpil’s mouth stretched wider and his eyes widened and he looked kind of insane from Dowoon’s perspective, but it was all in great excitement, if his glowing anticipation was anything to go by. 

He was holding out a rectangular box wrapped in silky turquoise paper. This pattern had hearts on it, too. The contrast of the red and greenish-blue colors made for an unexpectedly pretty theme.

Dowoon slowly took the box into his arms. All the while he was staring at Wonpil, like he wasn’t sure this gift was really for him. 

“Come on, open it~” Wonpil drawled. Wasn’t he the one that’s supposed to be really patient?

Dowoon wasn’t too sentimental about ripping the paper, but as always in his manners, he did it quietly. The wrapping skill itself wasn’t something to be admired, but it certainly showed a great care. It was Wonpil’s best, and that alone was good enough to Dowoon.

Soccer cleats. 

“You got… shoes?”

“Yeah! I remember you telling me that your old ones were wrecked when you got injured. I know the season’s over and all. But I wanted you to have new ones, because you love soccer.” 

Wonpil’s legs were bouncing on the balls of his feet, and he was smiling shyly. His hands wanted to fidget in their spot on his lap, but that would be too much.  _ Gosh, why am I so nervous?! _

“Well? What do you think? Are they okay? Did I get the brand wrong? I was almost positive your old ones were Adidas but I didn’t know the model-”

“They’re perfect,” Dowoon said. He was still staring down at them, somewhat because he was admiring them, but also because he didn’t want Wonpil to see the little (very little) splash of salty water gathering across his lower lashline. 

It occurred to him that Wonpil’s been beside him this whole time, since the beginning. Dowoon had never made it easy, but Wonpil had still managed to get to know him bit by bit. What a small, stupid thing to have remembered Dowoon’s soccer cleats were by Adidas. The same soccer cleats he’d never actually seen, just heard of once in passing. 

It was thoughtful, and so very wonderful. 

“These cost too much,” Dowoon mumbled.

“Well then you better put them to good use,” Wonpil exclaimed, with a big bright smile on his face. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

“When I come to watch you play next year you better be wearing these!” Wonpil laughed, but his eyes changed quickly with realization. “I mean, if that’s okay with you, if you want me to come…”

Dowoon would very much want that. “Of course. I’ll see you there,” he said, grinning.

Wonpil mirrored the action with a thin-lipped, shy smile. 

\----------

Sometimes in life there are those moments where you want to run away, but know that you’d regret it, for some goddamn reason, if you did. Dowoon can confirm that this is exactly the kind of feeling he was having right now, standing opposite four happy faces.

“Wonpil told us it’s your birthday today, so happy birthday, buddy! We love you,” Jae was the first one to say, fighting the urge to tackle Dowoon into a hug because they were all sweaty and gross from gym. Moreover, it’s important to note that if any tackling did occur in  _ this  _ locker room,  _ bet _ one of them would be killed by a strewn golf club or something.

Brian was tagging along somewhere behind Jae, his hand on his backpack, a conflicted look clouding his features. Like he was hesitating? Maybe he was constipated. Emotionally, that is. 

Slowly, he withdrew his hand and said, “Happy birthday, Dowoon-ah.” Brian’s body vibrated with the strength of Sungjin’s hand coming down against his shoulder as encouragement. 

“Yeah, happy birthday, Dowoon-ah. We’re so proud of you for toughing it out and coming back to the team after you got hurt.”

Dowoon’s eyes flicked toward Wonpil for help. His right thumb was rubbing harshly against his left palm with some nervousness. Was this really so unfamiliar for him? (And what exactly made it so unfamiliar, if about a hundred people that day had wished him Happy Birthday too?)

Wonpil stepped in and surprisingly took the others’ side. “We really wanted to get you something altogether but Jae-hyung suggested we maybe go out to eat,” he was almost asking Dowoon in his tone, “and for once I think that’s a really great idea.”

“Hey-”

“We’d be treating you, of course,” he spoke over Jae’s whiny voice.

“We could go to your favorite place,” Sungjin supplied, “anywhere you want!”

“I… I have swimming practice today,” Dowoon said awkwardly.

Wonpil didn’t even glance at the others for confirmation when he blurted, “That’s fine! We’ll go this weekend, then!”

No one seemed to oppose this change in plans, but Jae did look more distraught than usual. 

“Wait. You mean you’re actually going to  _ practice _ ? On your  _ birthday _ ,” he was saying, completely baffled. “Wow, is that what it’s like to be athletic.”

“No, actually,” Sungjin pointed out, “that’s just Dowoon.”

“Figures.”

“So what do you say?” Wonpil was looking right into Dowoon’s eyes with a sweet smile, quite literally, illuminating his features. But to his left and right, there were three other faces, just as softly hopeful as the one in the center. 

What was Dowoon going to do?  _ Say no? _

Well, okay,  _ maybe _ actually. But not this time. 

He felt good about this, it dawned on him suddenly.

“Yeah,” he answered. “We’ll do that.”

If it was even possible, the smiles got wider, until almond-shaped eyes became half-crescents. 

“Come on~! I really want a group hug now,” Jae pouted from the side. “You know, it’s bad luck for teams to not do group hugs.”

“Uh,  _ false _ ,” Brian cut in. 

“Oh, and  _ you _ know better, Mister Teamwork?”

“Indubitably.”

“Please shut up and let’s just hug the poor kid,” Sungjin sighed. His long arms folded everyone into a big loving glob before anyone could say anything else. 

Dowoon’s body definitely was feeling the squish. Most prominently he noticed Wonpil’s hands locked around his waist, head on his shoulder, and bodies thoroughly pressed together. We’re talking  _ pressed _ .

Finally they all came apart, and for the first time, they might have just felt like a team. A real team, outside of gym class, outside of high school. Bold to say, but maybe there really was something here. 

“You just wanted to hug because you were worried we’d really have bad luck and lose the tournament if we hadn’t, right?”

Nevermind, there were still just stupid teenagers.

Sungjin turned on Jae with an incredulous expression. “How dare you! I’ve been Dowoon’s soccer captain for two years now! Of course I wanted to show him we care.”

Jae’s suspicious face didn’t even flinch.

“It was, like, 90% Dowoon and 10% avoiding the jinx.”

“You’re such a bad liar,” Brian observed, leaning against a column of lockers.

“It was an 80/20 split,  _ maximum! _ ”

Dowoon was looking at Sungjin now, accompanying Jae’s relentless stare.

“Alright 70/30.”

“My work here is done,” Jae gave in with satisfaction, and turned toward Dowoon. “I take cash  _ and _ credit, sir.”

“Jesus christ,” Wonpil muttered. “We’re going now,” he laughed, dragging Dowoon backward by the handle atop his backpack, “come on, Dowoon-ah, before we lose more brain cells.”

Jae yelled after them, “Wait, so when is the dinner?!”

“I’ll make a groupchat!”

Jae shrugged, and looked as if he’d forgotten everything that had just happened, his mind preoccupied with totally new thoughts. It must have been the way his brain worked, since Jae usually couldn’t keep steady on one idea for more than a few minutes. 

Sungjin was taking full advantage of this, and slipped on his clothes as quickly as possible. He shimmied past the remaining two boys before Jae had another chance to harass him. 

“See you tomorrow,” he exclaimed, making a beeline for the door.

Jae grinned as he watched Sungjin speed-walk away. 

He was struggling to pull his jeans over his hips when he suddenly looked at Brian, deadpanned.

“Hey, do you think my ass got fatter,” he asked, twisting around to maximize Brian’s view of said ass. “My pants won’t go any further!”

_ Jesus Christ _ . “Calm down, Kim Kardashian. You got an ass flatter than Soyoung’s chest. And that’s saying a lot.”

Jae’s eyes bulged, and he rushedly said, “Brian-ah! That’s so mean…”

Brian really didn’t look too apologetic.

“My ass is  _ not _ flatter than Soyoung’s chest.”

A bark of loud laughter came tumbling out of Brian, and his hand reflexively came out to slap against Jae’s shoulder. In the process, his eyes grazed over the expanse of Jae’s crotch area, still uncovered by his jeans. 

He focused on something, so blatant and obvious.  _ Hold on. Is that… _

“Jae-hyung…”

The boy hummed, trying not to let the anxiety show. Okay, so he saw Brian eyeing his, uh,  _ dick _ . This underwear looked good, right? Black is always good, right? Yeah, yeah. 

“You…” Brian’s eyes leveled with Jae’s.

“Uh-huh,” Jae said hazedly.

“...are a  _ dumbass _ . Your zipper is all the way up, that’s why you can’t pull your jeans over your butt.” Brian sighed, turning back around to resume clothing himself.

_ Oh- _ That’s embarrassing. Jae looked down, yanking the zipper down and pulling his pants up begrudgingly. So much for that.

“By the way,” Brian started, “I actually wanted to show you something I’ve been working on. If you have time…” He was tying his shoes, facing downward, but something made Jae think a part of him was looking down because he was shy.

“Yeah! Yeah, we can go to one of the practice rooms to use the instruments, too.”

“Cool. Thanks,” the black-haired boy smiled.   
  


 

Jae’s fingers glided across the piano keys, his eyes closed, if a little scrunched. His head and his body were swaying, in the way you’d see a concert pianist’s body sway. He was focused, and nothing else mattered right now.

Almost. His ears were tuned to the melody Brian was humming, following the lines of music he’d written and erased and written over about a hundred times in his notebook.

They reached the end in an authentic cadence, a perfect harmony between the piano’s resonant  hum and Brian’s sweet voice. Jae’s posture deflated, and he looked absolutely blissful.

“I love it,” he told Brian.

“Thanks, hyung. For all your help, too,” Brian said.

Jae smiled. “Ah, is there anything in this world that I can’t perfect?” he said dramatically. “Call me Midas from now on.”

“Nevermind, I take it all back,” Brian sighed.

“That is not allowed, actually.”

Brian chuckled, more like scoffed, and moved to pick up some of the scattered papers of sheet music on the floor. He couldn’t even remember when or how those had fallen from his bag, and he was trying to put them all in order, though he knew it was a lost cause. He’d figure it out later.

“You know, I really do like it though,” he heard Jae say somewhere behind him, probably still sitting at the piano.

“Well I hadn’t thought of adding electric guitar but it ended up sounding great, so I guess I can’t take all the credit,” Brian replied.

A warm feeling spread through Jae, reaching his toes. He was absentmindedly staring at Brian gathering the fallen papers, when enough of his brain powered back on to remind him that maybe he should help his friend out.

Jae jumped down from the piano bench, his kneecaps crashing against the polished hardwood floor a little harder than expected, but he wasn’t going to mention  _ anything _ about that. He wordlessly began picking up the papers behind Brian. It was so quiet they could probably hear a pin drop in this big room, though it didn’t feel empty. Just, quiet.

It might have been his eyes playing tricks on him, but he could have sworn he spotted more than a few songs with conspicuously romantic titles. He wasn’t going to dwell on it (or maybe he was), but in that moment, his heart did a little flip.  _ Aw, Brian. So cute. _ He fought the overwhelming compulsion to read some of the lyrics.

He waddled back toward Brian, placing the papers into his hands. He was smiling a little mischievously as his hands held out a stack of papers, the first one boldly titled “Live to love you”. Was that being too obvious? Jae hopes so.

Suddenly there were three-coupled knocks at the door, scaring Jae half to death.

He pushed himself off the floor regretfully, hearing Brian’s body shuffle to rise with him, and guided himself to the door a few feet away.

“Practice rooms close in ten minutes, boys,” an older woman informed them, a cheery expression on her face.

“Ten minutes?! We’ve only been here for,” Jae paused, glancing at his phone, “ _ oh _ . Three hours. Wow, okay. We’ll be out in time, thank you.”

The lady hummed, almost saying  _ I told you so _ , and closed the door on her way out.

“Damn, three whole hours,” Jae said with a whistle.

Brian’s eyebrow quirked upward. “I know right.”

Jae fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. “You’re really talented. I joked around, but I really didn’t do much. Your music was already great. Really really great, actually.” 

And it was true. Brian just seemed to have that  _ gift _ that everyone always talks about, that natural talent that everyone wants. He had an affinity for music, and music apparently had quite an affinity for him; they were the perfect pair, inseparable. What Jae had seen of Brian’s capacity during their lengthy project period a few months ago was barely a scratch on the surface of his potential. At that time, he was confined to particular rules and guidelines, and he wasn’t working alone. 

But  _ this _ .  _ This _ was Brian. These scrambles of paper and ink of a million thoughts, the deeply personal words that he could never say out loud but flowed like waterfalls on paper. The proud confidence he had in his own talent, the sureness of his work. The impenetrable ambition that shined brightest on a stage, in front of dozens of people rather than the back corner of the classroom.

He was absolutely breathtaking. 

“Ah,” Brian murmured, the corners of his lips tugging upward, “you helped a lot. We should do this more often, hyung.”

“So was this, like, our first date? You should know that I don’t give up the goods on the first date, so you can forget about that, mister.”

“You are so annoying.”

“What a turn-off,” Jae replied. He was watching Brian straighten out the papers in his hands. “But,” he went on, “I can make an exception for you.”

His crush rolled his eyes dismissively, turning away rather quickly to put away the papers.

Before he had a chance to do that, Jae cleared his throat, in that loud, attention-seeking way that wasn’t entirely out of character for him. “Could you take me seriously?”

“What?

“Take my jokes seriously.”

Brian turned around to look at Jae boredly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Take my jokes seriously. All of them. Every provocative or profane thing I say, I want you to consider it honest.”

The younger boy looked confused, but maybe that’s what he preferred. Because letting himself understand where this was headed was a whole lot scarier than being clueless.

Jae stepped forward decidedly.

“I,” he poked Brian’s chest, “want to see you blush when I say those jokes because I mean them all.”

Another step.

“Believe me, It didn’t start off like this… It was never my intention for them to mean anything.” He let go of all the pride he had in him, and said it.

“But now they do. For you. Just for you. It’s only ever been for you.”

“I…” Brian, for maybe the first time ever, stuttered. “I don’t- I-”

“I’m flirting!”

Hearing the words put Brian in a kind of panic, but he fought it off because if he showed he was anxious, that would mean that he’s actually entertaining the idea that Jae was being serious. And that was… impossible.

“Did you hear me?” Jae was getting more and more bold.  _ Huh, I guess I really do feed off of attention. _ “ _ I said, _ I’m flirting with you. And you know why?”

Brian’s jaw tightened  immediately. “Don’t-”

“Because I like you,” Jae said proudly. “I like you.”

Brian looked like a deer caught in headlights. Wisps of his hair were falling across his eyes, but he couldn’t seem to bring up his hand to sweep them away. Good thing Jae did.

His fingers gently combed the hair back, letting his hand drop down to Brian’s nape. 

“I like you, Brian-ah,” he repeated. His eyes were clear as the morning sky, staring right into Brian’s unapologetically. 

Brian’s hand clamped over Jae’s forearm, the one leading up to his neck. His face became unreadable, and Jae was running out of options.

Suddenly, he felt a timid squeeze where Brian’s hand was, a slight tug. Oh, that was more than enough.

He’d been trying so hard to not let his eyes fall down to Brian’s lips but now he was blatantly gawking. His face titled and he moved in closer, and in a second they were kissing. 

It was like breathing out a sigh of relief after holding that breath for three months. Way too much and not enough at the same time.

Brian’s face had tilted too, their lips slotting together oh-so-perfectly. Jae’s glasses bumped against Brian’s nose in the process, and they both breathed out a laugh, wasting no time returning to their prior engagement. Their lips started moving, tentatively at first. That, of course, did not last very long.

Jae found himself pushing against Brian, deepening their kiss desperately. He was surprised to find Brian doing the same exact thing, and before you know it they were moving backwards aimlessly, looking for a surface, any surface, to lean against.

And they found it. Brian’s back would hurt from the impact, but that’s a problem for later. Right now, the only thing he could feel was Jae’s tongue grazing against his mouth and his hand moving down, down, down. Past his waist, past his hip… behind his knee, pulling his leg up against Jae’s hip. The surface behind him felt so unstable, and in a fit of desperation, Brian pushed his hand against it to stabilize himself, overwhelmed.

The deafeningly dissonant sound of about five different piano keys being struck at the same time jolted them apart. By that time, their chests were both heaving at a wild rhythm.

They stared at each other, wondering if what had just happened was real.

_ It’s real _ , Jae started screaming and whooping in his head.  _ Oh my god! It’s real! _

Brian deflated.  _ Oh my god. It was real. _

Jae’s smile was stunning, an ensemble of pearly white teeth and high cheeks. The embodiment of ecstasy, one could say. It faded, slowly, as he registered Brian’s expression of pure worry and disbelief.

He watched Brian’s hand touch his lips, but it didn’t look like the way Jae wanted to touch his. There was no semblance of amazement or wonder in his touch. It was a fearful touch.

Then, without warning, Brian turned away, gathering once again his fallen papers and shoving them into his bag, not bothering to even straighten them out. Jae took a step forward. What for, he wasn’t sure. 

Brian looked distraught, to say the least, but he somehow found the words to murmur, “I’ll go. Thanks for the help. Hyung.”

Jae did nothing to stop him when he jerked the door open and rushed through, welcoming the cold that lay beyond the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you are all doing swell and thriving and living your best lives because I love u and you deserve it ! midterms are fucking me in the ass so that's cool but the time i get to write is so wonderful so it's okay. again thank you so much for being so patient and kind to me YALL ARE RLLY DOING THE MOST I- ;-;


	14. Swimming to conclusions

Brian’s focus broke when he had to scribble out the dark “2” from his fourteenth piece of forsaken paper, rewriting the date with a “3” in the place of his mistake. Time kept escaping him, he forgot it was already March.

At least no one was around to hear him mumble a curse. Or- wait. Was that a person crouching under the desk in the front row? It was so far from his seat, he could barely see. Black hair… she looked so familiar. Wasn’t she...

“Jiwoo,” Brian tested, and the girl banged her head against the desk’s underside with a start. _Oops. Guess that is her._

“Jesus, you scared me,” she whined, getting up carefully. “How long have you been sitting there?”

“The entire time.”

“But I’ve been cleaning this room for the past ten minutes.”

Brian stared at her. “And what about it?”

“Well how-” she was short-circuiting. “You know what, nevermind.”

Brian shrugged. He turned back to his writing.

He was really liking the atmosphere that day, the very beginnings of cherry blossoms showing on tree branches and the weather slowly becoming more mild. It stimulated his creativity. Helped him think more deeply about the things he wanted to put into lyrics.

Recently… he’d been thinking a lot. About a lot of things. Very complicated things that he didn’t want to confront. But he was thinking about him- _them. He was thinking about_ them _! The things. Many things._  

But in the back of his mind something was yelling at him and in his heart something was aching, just a little, and he didn’t want to admit it.

“Raise your feet, please,” he heard Jiwoo say suddenly, standing in front of his desk with a mop in her hand. She was smiling sweetly, her eyes half crescents, like she knew something Brian didn’t.

He obliged, and she swept the wet mop across the floor below Brian’s hovering feet.

Brian’s eyes stayed locked on his paper, scanning it over ruthlessly.

The songs he’d been working on were much more melancholy than usual. The melodies were sadder and slower. Brian was no stranger to sentimental words, but he’d never set out to write a sad song. It just wasn’t… _him_. Brian wasn’t really one to write pitiful songs, just for crying or for sitting on his bed to stare at the ceiling and sigh. But these days, it’s all he could do.

His bandmates saw no issue with this. Assholes. In their eyes, the songs were sad, but they were still good! They provided ‘diversity’ to their repertoire of rock and pop.

_Wow, even when I’m feeling shitty I make great music. I’m incredible._

Brian was definitely the type of artist to take down every random thought and keep it in his notebook. And while most of the time he could barely decipher what he’d been thinking at the time, it just helped get his ideas flowing. Glancing over his relatively recent spurts of inspiration, he realized they were just a collection of confused, depressing scribbles. _How annoying_.

It was a couple more minutes until Jiwoo interrupted Brian again, offering him a mop.

“No thanks,” he told her.

“We’re the only two people here, you should help me,” Jiwoo persisted.

Brian didn’t bother responding; he was glad to continue unproductively staring at his notebook.

Jiwoo sighed, twirling around dramatically so that her hair cascaded around her in the process. “Least you could do is talk to me then,” she sing-songed, getting back to her work. She’d been mopping the area around Brian for… quite a long time.

The urge, the _instinct_ , to roll his eyes physically pained Brian. He didn’t do it for Jae’s sake though, the boy’s reprimanding face popping up in his head. For whatever reason.

“How are the games going, with the team I mean?”

Brian spoke with tiredness, “They’re fine.”

“That’s good.”

“...We’re in the semifinals,” he added.

“Wow! That’s great,” Jiwoo said with genuine excitement.

“Yeah, Sungjin hyung really wants to win, so…”

Jiwoo circled back around Brian’s desk to face him as she absentmindedly dragged the mop in repetitive motions. “I should come see you in the finals. If you make it there, that is,” she said mischievously.

Brian scoffed. “Oh, we’ll make it there if Sungjin hyung can do something about it.”

Jiwoo hummed, somewhat awkwardly. She looked like she wanted to say something. It annoyed Brian.

 _“What?_ ”

She looked surprised, turning to look at Brian questioningly. “Hm?”

“What is it,” he tried urging.

”Oh, nothing,” Jiwoo replied in understanding. “Just Sungjin… We dated, you know.”

“Oh, I know. He won’t shut up about it- wait, _dated_?”

“Yeah,” she smiled, “we’re on a break right now.”

Brian, for a second, was struck dumb.

Jiwoo stepped closer. “Just until I figure some things out,” she told Brian.

Brian absently hummed. He couldn’t help but think something about it was odd. He didn’t talk very often with Sungjin, but even he could see how _in love_ that hyung was. And now Jiwoo says they’re on a break? Weird.

A tiny, tiny part of Brian might have felt bad for Sungjin, knowing how he’d felt about the relationship. Maybe something changed- it must have if they broke it off, but it was still unfortunate.

“Funny how Jae and I are so different in that way,” Jiwoo suddenly added.

Brian looked up at her quickly, his interest piqued. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” Jiwoo chuckled, “Jae told me he doesn’t… _like_ people that way. He’s doesn’t really have crushes.” Jiwoo tucked some strands of her silky hair behind her ear. “I don’t understand it.”

The boy was trying his best to control his facial expressions. Mild, perfectly mild, Brian.

Jiwoo dipped the mop into the water and squeezed it against the side press, letting the excess water fall back into the bucket. “It must be a little liberating, I guess. To not worry about liking someone or they liking you, or catching feelings… That sort of thing,” she said, genuinely thoughtful.

“I tried setting him up with a girl once,” Jiwoo continued, “but I don’t know if anything came of it. Probably not, since he hasn’t mentioned anything.”

Brian had sat up in his seat, back straight and the pen loosely held inside his palm forgotten. “Jae-hyung doesn’t… _like_ people?”

“Not from what he told me a few months ago.”

How had the situation _possibly_ gotten worse for Brian? This complicated things and went against everything Jae had said. What the fuck was going on exactly?

Jiwoo shrugged. “It seems like I have the opposite problem,” she giggled. “I have too many feelings!”

Brian never thought he’d relate to that statement, but here he was. And here Jiwoo was. Who would have thought.

“I mean I like Sungjinie, he’s such a great guy. Sweet and caring and smart...”

“But?”

Jiwoo smiled softly at Brian, looking him in the eyes to say, “But… I’m not sure it’s what I want. It’s hard for me to decide what I should do.” She was gazing at him with some hope, like she was waiting for him to say… something.

Brian considered his words carefully. Sighing, he told her, “I think you should do what you want. Go with your gut. Go for what you really want, I guess.”

Jiwoo’s eyes sparkled in the reflection of Brian’s face. “Really?”

“Yeah, why not,” Brian shrugged.

There was a pep in Jiwoo’s step while she slowly twirled the mop across the floor in waved patterns, seeming more satisfied than she did before. _Did he mean something by those words? ‘Go for it’... I will, Brian-ah._

“You look happy,” he joked, watching her bounce around the room brightly.

“I am happy,” Jiwoo replied simply. Brian hummed.

They worked in silence within their own separate dominions, entering each other’s peripheral vision at times when Jiwoo got too close to Brian’s desk again. A strip of golden sunlight spread over Brian’s notebook; must be sunset, judging by the color.

He noticed Jiwoo back in his peripheral vision. This time, she was holding out the second mop again.

“Just for a little bit,” Jiwoo justified. “It’s already late, you should head home anyway to rest.” She rested her hand on his forearm that was lying limply on the desk, and smiled. “You’ve worked hard.”

The boy had found himself rising from his seat and taking the mop. He gathered his things first, swinging his bags over his body to emphasize the brevity of this task he was handed.

He started mopping the back of the class. He’d been sitting in that seat at the very back of the room long enough to know every dusty, disgusting corner and speck of floor. It was a little satisfying to see the clean swipe left behind by every swing of the mop.

“Speaking of Jae,” Jiwoo started again, “how are you two? You’ve been getting closer, huh?”

Brian resisted the urge to huff, for the girl’s sake. “It’s fine.”

“You haven’t hung out for a while though… I remember there was a time you guys were inseparable,” she prodded. Brian was gripping the mop’s neck more tightly. “I think your personalities match, in some ways."

“Oh, _do they_?"

Jiwoo didn’t understand his sarcasm. “Yeah! You’re good friends, no?”

“Sure,” Brian answered through gritted teeth. He’d stopped mopping, but Jiwoo wasn’t looking. Can’t he just tell her to shut the fuck up about this?!

“Can you do me a favor then and try to hook him up with a nice girl? I thought he’d hit it off with Sohee, but honestly, between you and me, maybe he needs someone a little more _forward_ to help him along,” she laughed. “A little push, if you know what I mean. You know any girl like that?"

Something inside Brian snapped, and this time he didn’t care to hold himself back. “You know, I‘ll get going, you can take care of this,” he abruptly smiled at her, all too sweetly. He swung the mop in front of him and started waving it left and right, letting the darkened droplets of water splatter around him, on the desks and chairs and floor, on his way out.

“Brian-ah!” Jiwoo was exclaiming in protest. She ran after this renegade.

Brian had made it to the front of the room, and Jiwoo followed close behind. He stopped and gently let the mop rest against the teacher’s podium. He turned to her holding up a fist in mock encouragement, and walked out.

Jiwoo stared at his retreating back in disbelief. She settled for a scoff.

\----------

“So yeah Choco ended up peeing on my black vans because it was dark and she probably didn’t see them,” Wonpil spoke into the phone, lying on his bed aimlessly with his head dangling off the side.

“Or she did see them and didn’t care,” Dowoon responded without missing a beat.

“I don’t like what you’re insinuating.” Wonpil chuckled.

An odd sort of silence followed, both boys waiting for the other to speak.

Dowoon eventually spoke up to end the silence. “So what’s bothering you?”

But Wonpil didn’t understand what he meant. Was something wrong?

The sound of Dowoon opening his mouth to speak, that soft inhale right before he’s about to say something, was audible through the line. But the breath dissipated slowly, and no voice followed for a few seconds. “Didn’t you call because you had something about Sungjin- like usual?”

“Ah, no,” Wonpil said, just realizing it himself. “No… I just wanted to tell you that story. And talk to you.”

“Oh.”  

“You can’t escape me that easily. I’ll still call you to tell you that my dog ate my slipper; you’re my personal listener! It’s an honorable position.”

Dowoon scoffed. “Of course,” he responded. Dowoon’s palm, holding his head lazily, felt his cheek heat up.

“I should get going though, my mom’s been calling me down to do laundry for ten minutes now, and that’s already ten minutes too many,” Wonpil said regretfully.

Silently, they both wished they could keep talking, even for a little. No matter the time or place or situation, they’d always find something to talk about. Most of the time it would be something completely idiotic, but what else could be expected from two teenage boys? Nothing. Absolutely nothing else.

“But I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah? After your practice,” he reminded Dowoon (but mostly himself, if Wonpil was being honest).

“Right.” _Okay, that was something to look forward to_ , Dowoon thought. “For the dinner.”

They exchanged their goodbyes, Wonpil all but throwing his phone on the bed right after and haphazardly racing down the stairs.

 

Thankfully, so far it was looking like a good day despite the foreboding weather forecasts. This came as a welcome surprise, unlike those times when the weatherman would predict sunny, cloudless skies only for Wonpil to walk out and face thundering rains.

It truly would have been unfortunate if _finally_ the day of Dowoon’s birthday dinner two weeks late had turned out to be on a shitty day. That would be _illegal_. Unacceptable.

Wonpil hopped off the bus, gazing up at the dome-shaped building ahead of him. It was pretty big and covered with reflective material, like a huge warped mirror. It was very professional. Wonpil thought it looked something like an Olympic Swimming training center. _Actually, it might be just that, by the looks of it_.

Within the first few seconds of walking in, the distinct smell of chlorine hit him hard and fast. Small groups of people, not much older than himself, passed by, dressed in expensive workout clothes. They carried duffle bags on their shoulders with bold inscriptions of _Adidas_ , or _Nike_.

For no reason at all, Wonpil felt intimidated. For all these people knew, Wonpil could be a swimmer too! He didn’t really look like a swimmer though… Wonpil gazed down at his soft body, so unlike a swimmer’s hardened, chiseled figure. Oh, damn it all.

Wonpil made it to the obvious entrance into the large swimming pool, and tried really really hard to not let his mouth drop.

Now this was a _proper_ swimming pool. Huge, with nine or ten wide lanes for individual swimmers. The ceiling was taller than anything the boy had ever seen before. The whole scene was almost out of a movie- everything seemed to be some shade of blue, or maybe that was the pool distracting him.

Looking around there were a few coaches walking about, ‘round each of their necks a shining silver whistle. Some were yelling things at the athletes, others just watching, like hawks, scrutinizing every stroke and kick in the pool.

This had to be an Olympic training center, it was incredible.

Without wasting more time, Wonpil scanned the room for Dowoon. He’d come a little earlier than was planned, so maybe he was still in the pool?

He spotted the paler boy on the poolside, his goggles placed over his forehead while he spoke quietly (it seemed) with his coach. One of his arms was leaning against the pool’s edge, keeping him in place.

Eventually, the coach raised himself from the crouching position he was in after giving Dowoon a final pat (slap) on the shoulder. And Dowoon turned away, his eyes somehow landing right on target. Wonpil’s embarrassed expression.

Dowoon gave a little nod, with a little smile to go with it, and Wonpil reciprocated.

Suddenly Dowoon was swimming away, toward the adjacent side of the pool. Wonpil didn’t register what he was trying to accomplish until he saw, with little effort, Dowoon’s back muscles rippling smoothly as he hauled himself out of the pool. That’s… _interesting_.

Did it even surprise anyone when Dowoon started walking toward Wonpil wearing only a blue and black speedo because the locker room entrance was right behind none other than _Kim Wonpil?_  Of course not.

Objectively speaking, let’s just break this down one by one, shall we?

 _Offence number one:_ Somewhere between the pool and Wonpil, Dowoon had ripped off his swimmer’s cap, leaving his jet-black hair in this messy curled hairdo that could give young heartthrob Leonardo Dicaprio a run for his motherfucking money.

 _Offence number two:_ Dowoon’s entire body was dripping wet. As if that’s not already offensive enough, the pool’s shine reflected onto his body, making the water droplets all over him practically glisten. He looked like a runway model.

 _Offence number three_ : This comes as a shock to precisely _no one_ , but. Abs. Dowoon’s soft abs, Wonpil. Wonpil, meet Dowoon’s abs. It’s very very very nice to meet you. Very nice indeed. A faint outline of the demonic “V” led down to Dowoon’s crotch.

Wonpil felt his insides lurch with a very familiar… _feeling_. With great confusion and embarrassment he squirmed, readjusting his body to get rid of the sensation.

Dowoon hadn’t seemed to notice the blatant staring, or maybe he didn’t mind it, and came up close to Wonpil before excusing himself to go shower and get ready:

“Hey,” he greeted the older boy, “I’ll go change and we can go.” Dowoon grinned, just slightly. He was even more stunning up close. He looked exhausted though, and he stretched his arms over his head.

 _Even his_ armpits _are spotless! How can a person like this exist._ Wonpil was getting a headache. _God, I see what you’ve done for others._

“Yeah, you should go change,” Wonpil agreed, and patted Dowoon’s shoulder out of instinct but immediately regretted it. “I’ll wait for you by the entrance!”

It took maybe fifteen or twenty minutes until Dowoon was ready to go, his hair damp and eyes vaguely rimmed with red, probably from his goggles. At least he didn’t reek of chlorine anymore.

They boarded the bus enroute to the restaurant. It was already getting dark outside at five in the afternoon, but that was to be expected because of the season. The days were starting to get longer, little by little, and it made time feel longer too. Sometimes that was a good thing! Others… not so much.

“Thanks for picking me up, hyung,” Dowoon spoke while looking after the scenery through the bus window.

Wonpil’s mouth was ready to respond, just as always, with something like ‘of course!’, but he realized that there was something off about that sentence. Something…

“Hyung,” Wonpil whispered. “That’s the first time you’ve ever called me hyung,” he said more loudly.

Dowoon’s eyes were a little wide when he looked at Wonpil, as if he’d just noticed it too. “Ah,” Dowoon said somewhat awkwardly, turning to face the window again. It’s all he _could_ say.

Little bursts of hotness made it to Wonpil’s cheeks and ears, no doubt turning them both a telling shade of red. Then he smiled widely, feeling a greatly disproportionate sense of achievement and pride. “Hyung~ Hyung hyung hyung hyung,” he was chanting happily, poking at Dowoon’s sides.

Wonpil hit a ticklish spot, it seemed, and Dowoon let out a loud ‘HA!’. Dowoon slapped a hand over his mouth, slowly shoving his body closer and closer to the window in an effort to escape. But he was caged in. Wonpil started laughing, torturing this big baby sitting next to him even more.

“Stoooop,” Dowoon begged, every muscle in his body tensed with the effort of suppressing his laughter. Yes, even his butt muscles.

“Only if you say it nicely,” Wonpil replied with a kingly air about him. Damn, you call a guy ‘hyung’ _once_ and suddenly he doesn’t know how to act.

“Please,” Dowoon was cut off by another rebellious burst of laughter when Wonpil poked his waist. “Please stop harassing me.”

“I think you’re forgetting something~”

Dowoon sighed in defeat. “Please stop harassing me,” he looked at Wonpil, “ _hyung_.”

Wonpil giggled. “See, that wasn’t so hard,” he said with an _audible_ smile. He absentmindedly raised his hand to push back a tuft of Dowoon’s hair which had fallen out of place, a very fond look in his eyes. “Keep ‘em coming, Dowoonie.”

The raven haired boy cleared his throat, wiggling his head to shake up his bangs and biting on his lip distractedly.

\----------

Before Wonpil and Dowoon even had time to take in the beautiful restaurant, they heard the unmistakable judgemental voice of Jaehyung.

“Good thing you told me 6:30 PM, assholes,” Jae was already whining at the table. “I’ve been waiting here by myself all this time!”

“Really? Sorry, hyung. How long has it been?”

“I don’t know, twenty minutes?”

Dowoon and Wonpil looked at each other. “Honestly, we told you we’d be meeting half an hour earlier, so we could account for your usual lateness,” Wonpil admitted, stifling his laughter. Virtually no remorse on either of their faces. Brats!

“I wasn’t late though, _was I_?!”

“Sorry, hyung,” Wonpil smiled innocently. “But you kinda were late anyway. We told you 6:30 and now it’s a little past seven o’clock… Twenty minutes you said?” _Cheeky_ little brats, it seems. “That’s still ten minutes late, at least.”

Ignoring every part of the last two sentences, Jae continued, “ _Anyways_ , I came _early_ to celebrate my _son’s_ birthday.” He was cooing at Dowoon. “How old are you turning, baby? Twelve?”

“Sixteen,” Dowoon answered, unimpressed.

Their hyung gasped loudly. “Sweet sixteen! Wahh~”

The boy in question tensed up at Jae’s loud voice that had informed everyone in the restaurant of his age. He sat down quickly on the opposite side of the booth, pulling in Wonpil next to him wordlessly by tugging on his sleeve. Wonpil didn’t protest.

“It’s already ten past seven,” Wonpil said as he glanced at his phone. “The others are coming, right?”

“I mean, are you sure you told them the right time, or did you dupe them like you did to me,” Jae mocked.

“You’re never letting it go, huh?”

“Nope.”

_Figures._

“And maybe just out of spite, I’ll be late to everything from now on,” Jae teased with crossed arms.

“You don’t need a reason, you do that already,” Dowoon piped up.

Jae’s eyebrows adopted an offended tilt and his mouth was opening to fire up an indignant reaction when Wonpil cut him off.

“Hey! You’re not allowed to yell at him, it’s his birthday,” he reminded while forcing down a laugh.

“No it ain’t! It was like two weeks ago!”

“He’s a baby.”

Jae looked conflicted. “You’re lucky you’re cute, kid,” he said, giving in to a truce.

Dowoon had a big soft smile on his face, and it made the two boys melt. Seriously, _how could anyone say no to that face?_

A twinkle of little bells brought their attention to the door, alerting them to Sungjin’s entrance. Oddly enough, Brian was actually trailing close behind him. They spotted the group without much difficulty, making their way over.

Brian’s pace slowed even more, waiting for Sungjin to take the seat next to Jae. He quietly slipped into Dowoon’s side of the booth, like a cat. He was carrying a backpack or something, which he placed between his legs under the table.

“Hey guys,” Sungjin exclaimed excitedly, “sorry we’re late! And happy birthday, Dowoon-ah.”

They were all looking at Dowoon now, and wished him a happy birthday, a very very happy birthday. Wonpil next to him rubbed his shoulder, and Jae across from him nudged his leg cheerfully. _Gosh..._

Brian was making baby noises. Pretty sure he was imitating Dowoon? Who’s a baby? Alright, it checks out.

Jae suddenly raised his glass of water and spoke in a proud tone, without a hint of humor. “To Dowoonie.”

It surprised Dowoon, and maybe some of the others. It’s not that Jae was incapable of being genuine, because, actually, almost everything he does is in sincerity. But it was a very sentimental moment. A little break of realness, when Jae’s face was relaxed in an encouraging, toothy smile.

In that moment, you could see how much Jae truly cared. For Dowoon, for his friends, for people.

“To Dowoonie,” everyone repeated.

Unsure how to even respond to a gesture so heartfelt, Dowoon simply raised his glass too. He nodded and smiled, his eyes lingering on the boys’ faces. He hoped he’d commit them to memory, commit this moment to memory.

“Come on, drink up,” Wonpil ushered. And Dowoon complied, with everyone following suit.

Brian hummed during his gulp. “Mmm, wish this was lemonade.”

Sungjin scoffed. “What are you, five?”

“I’ll get you lemonade,” Jae jumped in straight away with his hand already raised high in the air, motioning for the waiter.

“I’m fine- wait,” Brian said. His eyes were glued to the table. “Put your hand down.”

But a tall man was already standing by their table with a tiny notebook and pen at the ready and a questioning look across his face. “Yes sir?”

“Yes, hi. I’d like a le-”

“We’re fine actually, we changed our minds,” Brian quickly cut Jae off. His voice was commanding and cold, and it might have scared the waiter away since he didn’t spare Jae’s request even a second thought as he turned on his heel and left for a different table.

Jae frowned and looked directly at Brian, and his glasses slipped down his buttony nose in the process. The boy was avoiding Jae’s pointed gaze.

Sungjin cleared his throat. “Wonpilie mentioned you would be coming here right after swimming practice, huh,” he directed toward Dowoon, with a hint of question in there. “Isn’t this what we were trying to avoid a few weeks ago anyway?”

“Ah yeah, but Dowoon preferred that we do it toward the middle of swimming season,” Wonpil answered. “The beginning is always hectic…”

“I thought I sniffed some chlorine,” Jae added, looking at Dowoon’s damp hair suspiciously.

“Well, how was practice? Everything going well?”

“It’s good,” Dowoon said as he tried to think of something meaningful to say. “Oh… I…”

It was unclear if Dowoon was using some sort of storytelling technique, or what. _Build suspense, keep the audience wanting more_ \- but whatever he was doing, it was working. It always did.

“I competed in a regional tournament a few days ago,” Dowoon finished.

“You _what_?!”

There were gasps, mostly from Jae, some dumbfounded looks, and an absolutely euphoric expression on Wonpil.

“Excuse me?! A _regional_ competition,” Wonpil repeated in awe. “And what happened?!” He was awfully close to shaking it out of Dowoon.

“I won,” he answered in a small voice.

Wonpil’s eyes had effectively disappeared behind tight crescents, and  his cheeks were squeezed upward as a wide smile overtook his face. “You WON!” You couldn’t miss the feeling of unconditional pride in his voice.

“Congratulations, Dowoon-ah. That’s really great,” Brian sounded from further down the table.

Sungjin and Jae echoed this sentiment with their own congratulations.

A low rumbling noise cut through their second round of festivities. It was Brian’s phone buzzing against the wooden table. Then it buzzed once more. And again. After the fourth vibration, Brian decided he should probably check who’s so urgently reaching out. It took some squinting to focus his eyesight on the bright device, but he chuckled breathily when he read the text previews on his lockscreen. Brian was already mindlessly swiping his thumb across the screen to type up a reply.

Soon enough Brian dropped his phone into his jacket pocket. He was surprised to find everyone watching him, as if watching TV, or a movie.

“Who was that,” Sungjin asked, sobering up.

“Jiwoo-noona,” Brian said. It was hard to miss Sungjin’s reactive cough.

That was odd, more than a little odd.

Brian vaguely mentioned they weren’t close, just friendly. Wonpil made a comment, something about not having guessed that Jiwoo and Brian could match in character, and Sungjin chuckled in agreement.

 _They’d become friends?_ Jae thought about how long it had taken him to get Brian to stop stubbornly pushing him away, much less consider him a _friend_. Wasn’t this what Jae wanted, for these two important people in his life to be on good terms? Why was there a bitterness left in his mouth?

Wonpil was playing with his glass of water when it suddenly tipped over, rolling onto its side on the table much too fast for anyone to react in time to catch it. The liquid inside sloshed about wildly and ran over onto the table, some of it splashing onto Sungjin, who was across from Wonpil. Spots of  his button down and pants were already starting to darken with the wetness of the water.

The perpetrator let out a meek yelp, “Sungjin-hyung! Your clothes!” He looked absolutely mortified.

“Ah,” Sungjin’s deep voice said, “it’s nothing. Just water.” He was getting up to clean himself up in the bathroom, hopefully drying off some of the more suspicious stains. “I’ll go dry myself off.”

“Yeah, you should. Kinda looks like you peed yourself,” Jae observed. “The water just perfectly thrown. It’s artistic, even.”

“Definitely looks like you peed yourself,” Brian contributed.

“A little,” even Dowoon joined in.

Sungjin’s hands bolted down to cover his crotch, perhaps emphasizing the attention already drawn to it. “Stop looking at it! I’ll be back.”

Wonpil jumped up from his seat. “Sungjin-hyung, wait! Let me help,” Wonpil exclaimed as he _very_ uncomfortably and clumsily scootched over Brian to exit the booth and run after Sungjin, into the bathroom.

Dowoon watched silently. _Ah, so tiring. He should just say how he feels._ The boy sighed. _You’re one to talk though, Dowoon-ah_ , he thought to himself.

\----------

“Good night!”

“Good night, hyung!”

“Night, kiddos.”

“Good night, guys!”

“See you,” Brian responded awkwardly to everyone. He tried to linger closer to Dowoon without seeming creepy.

“You sure you’re okay getting a ride back yourself, Dowoonie?” he heard Wonpil ask worriedly.

“Yes, hyung. It’s okay.”

“You’re _sure_ sure?”

Dowoon looked at Wonpil directly. “Yes,” he affirmed with a small smile, knowing it would make Wonpil feel a lot better. And sure enough…

“Okay…” Wonpil sighed, calling out once more before leaving, “Um, be careful!”

Dowoon was shaking his head when Brian finally swallowed down his pride to approach him. Something about it felt so awkward and inappropriate. “Dowoon-ah.”

The maknae looked a little surprised to see Brian, of all people standing in front on him. But he gave his attention to the boy.

“So,” Brian began, swinging his arm that was holding a medium-sized brown bag outward. Toward Dowoon. “I got you this for your birthday, but I felt weird giving it to you before. So I waited… Anyways, Happy very-late Birthday.”

Dowoon was, for a moment, speechless. “I…”

Very casually, Brian added, “You don’t have to open it right now. But I really hope you like it.”

What was Dowoon supposed to say? To say he hadn’t expected this would have been an understatement. I mean… _Brian_? The bag looked quite large, too.

Dowoon took the bag, trying not to show his embarrassment on his face. “Thank you. You shouldn’t have, really…” His eyes looked at Brian sincerely. “Thanks.”

Brian brushed it off, telling him it was no trouble. Truly, it was times like these when the boys did feel like brothers, _little by little_.

The older boy eventually left, maybe a little happier than when he came in.  

Dowoon was alone in the restaurant now, and his fingers itched to see what Brian had gotten him, more from curiosity than greed. So he reached inside, pulling out a sizeable box. It was sleek and black with a thin strip of matte gold running down the lid’s right side, already giving Dowoon the impression that this wasn’t something just _anyone_ could buy.

Inside was a pair of freshly polished drumsticks lying delicately on a deep blue, velvety cushion. Dowoon had to physically stop himself from dropping the box in shock. He was pretty sure his jaw had dropped though.

 _They’re beautiful_ , Dowoon thought to himself, picking up one of the drumsticks to behold in his hand. The weight, feel, shape was _perfect_ , how was this possible?! They were perfect.

Dowoon had been wanting his own set for ages now, and it’s not like he didn’t have the money for it, but he just always thought it was a lost cause. Why try, why bother, why dig himself deeper into this hole?

But honestly, looking at the drumsticks, his _own_ drumsticks now, Dowoon’s heart started to pound with excitement. He loved how it felt to hold them in these calloused hands of his.

It suddenly occurred to him that Brian couldn’t have possibly known that he played the drums, much less wanted drumsticks. Or could he? Little did Dowoon know that a long time ago, many months earlier, Brian had chanced upon Dowoon playing the drums in the school’s practice room, on his way to the art room once after school. Brian had thought that a musician as talented as this one deserved his own instruments. A pair of drumsticks would have to suffice for now. Maybe one day, a full drum set…

Whatever had prompted the gift, it made Dowoon’s little heart fill with joy and warmth. The sophomore cleared his throat, hoping no one had seen him freak out. But the sentiment was _definitely_ still there.

Speaking of which, these awfully bubbly feelings were becoming pretty common for him nowadays He really didn’t find it in him to oppose it though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a little dopil to soothe the soul!  
> i hope everyone is doing well and as always, ilySSSM babies


	15. Moving forward... and downward?

“Ah, hi Wonpilie,” he registered the soft timbre of a female voice say.

Wonpil’s step stuttered when he looked up to find Jiwoo at the library table.  _ Their _ table, his and Sungjin’s. Sitting in  _ his _ seat. 

“Hi, noona.” Wonpil looked at Sungjin, the older boy’s eyes slanted downward, big and just as surprised as Wonpil felt. Seems like his and Jiwoo’s conversation hadn’t been a good one. “Do you need me to give you some time alone,” he suggested awkwardly, to neither in particular.

Wonpil wasn’t surprised because Jiwoo had never showed up to the library, never popped in unannounced, or never hung out with Sungjin. It was because she and Sungjin were... broken up now. All the visits and mild PDA had been gone for quite a while now. And though Sungjin would talk about her like always (believe Wonpil,  _ all _ the time), Jiwoo hardly ever brought the subject up.

“No…” Jiwoo answered smiling at the youngest, “No, we were just finishing up.” In that moment Sungjin looked like he wanted to say something, but held back.

Wonpil awkwardly standing to the side, Jiwoo got up and turned to Sungjin. “We can talk later,” she told him, and left.

Sungjin slumped in his seat, exhausted. His forehead was about to hit the tabletop  _ fast _ until a warm palm bolted out to fit itself between Sungjin’s skin and the cold wood. 

“Thanks Wonpilie,” Sungjin said, muffled.

“No problem, hyung,” the other boy smiled sympathetically as he settled into his seat. “You doing okay?”

Wonpil felt a faint huff of air blow against his hand. “Yeah…”

“Hyung?”

“Yeah?”

“Hyung.”

“...No.” 

“Mm-hm. So what’s going on,” he stared at his crush concerned, though he knew Sungjin couldn’t see him.

Truth be told, there were a lot of suspicions swirling around Wonpil’s head about this relationship, too many oddities and inconsistencies that he couldn’t keep ignoring. The sudden circumstances of their getting together, and their even more sudden breakup (or as Sungjin would persist,  _ break _ ). Jiwoo’s weird unwillingness to compromise…  

But that hurt puppy-dog look in Sungjin’s eyes… Wonpil saw that look too often nowadays. Wonpil will swallow his pride and judgement to help this relationship if it would just get rid of that damn look.

“I really don’t get it, you know,” Sungjin finally looked up, “I thought things were going so well. What changed?”

Wonpil had nothing to say. He didn’t know either.

“We had fun on our dates- amusement parks, restaurants, cafes. We’d kiss. She’d smile, I’d smile.” Sungjin smiled again like a big lovestruck idiot. “It was all so nice.”

Through gritted teeth Wonpil tried to shake away the mental image of Sungjin and Jiwoo making out. 

Sungjin quickly became aware of his slumped back, and straightened up, always so proper. “I respect her decision. I’m not entitled to her time… I just want to know why! Why she lost interest, why it didn’t work, what I did.” 

“You didn’t do anything,” Wonpil mumbled without missing one beat. 

There was a distinct sigh of frustration. “Even on our date when we saw Brian, she was so happy. We had a lot of fun that day, and Brian didn’t look too miserable by the end of it! She looked really happy that day.”

Wonpil wordlessly absorbed the information, conversations like these having become his own inevitable harbingers of torment. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t welcome it at this point. Cool, adding  _ masochism _ to his list of personality traits.

Sungjin appeared hesitant before he admitted, “Sorry, Wonpil-ah, I know you two are close but. Sometimes I think she might be stringing me along.”

Wonpil snapped out of it. “Stringing you along?”  _ What would make him think that? _

Sungjin clicked his tongue. “Ah, it’s stupid. She couldn’t do that,” he said resolutely, scolding himself, as if the doubtful thought had escaped him before he could bite it back. “I guess I’m just really at a loss.” 

Yes, it was written all over his face. Lost was a very appropriate description. Wonpil’s eyes followed Sungjin’s hand that delicately brushed back his sleek dark hair. 

“I’m in love, Wonpilie. I’m so in love with her.” The tired frown on his face was heartbreaking. “I tried so hard to show her that.”

“I’m sure you did,” Wonpil spoke absently, dissociating. “You did.”

“Jiwoo is too perfect. She’s so sweet. There’s just no other way to put it. She has this cute habit of scrunching her nose when she’s focused on something, like looking at a menu or studying. Did you know that?” It was more of a rhetorical question, because he kept going.

“Her eyes look black but they’re actually dark brown! You have to look pretty closely, but they’re beautiful. And they always seem like they’re sparkling? A little twinkle in her eyes, I don’t think it’s easy to notice that either.” I guess Sungjin was intent on digging himself deeper and deeper into this grave.

“No, hyung, I didn’t notice…”

Sungjin hummed. For a second he looked at Wonpil, and the thought that dawned on him made him want to slap himself. “Wonpil-ah, I’m so sorry.”

The boy looked up quickly, a pang of panic punching him in the gut. _What? Does he know?! My face, it probably looks so damn pathetic._ _Shit!_ “Sorry for what, hyung,” Wonpil croaked out in question.

Sighing, Sungjin said, “Ah, this is probably so uncomfortable for you to hear. You’ve been such a good friend, and I’ve taken it for granted. Just throwing this all onto you all the time.” Sungjin’s palm came over Wonpil’s limp hand, engulfing it in a warm little hand hug. The  _ nerve _ of this man. “I’m sorry.”

Nevermind the fact that Wonpil’s dream is to hold hands with interlocked fingers. This is fine.

While looking into Sungjin’s eyes, Wonpil knew that the senior was waiting for a response from him, an encouraging gaze gracing his features. Sungjin would soon retract his hand, a momentary (but not meaningless) display of comfort and remorse. For a moment, time slowed down, and he stared at Sungjin for an eternity, trying to memorize  _ every detail _ . 

Wonpil pulled back his hand. 

He quickly looked away, anywhere but at the person sitting across from him, hoping the boy wouldn’t see the involuntary bubble of water crowding against his lower lash line. Wonpil picked up his phone, catching his own reflection in the blank screen. Puffy eyes and two deep-etched lines in his forehead, just above his brows. He was mirroring Sungjin’s own grimace. 

“There’s nothing to be sorry for. Anything for you,” Wonpil told him honestly.

For the first time in a few days, Sungjin gave a genuine laugh. “You shouldn’t say stuff like that, that’s too much!”

“It’s okay,” Wonpil mumbled. 

\----------

The plan was ready to commence. With the ugly ring of the school bell Jae practically jumped out of his seat, swinging his backpack over his shoulder and strolling down the hallway with purpose.

About half of the many students who greeted Jae received no response, since Jae was so focused on his motions. He needed to get the timing just right, or else he’d miss his chance. 

_ There he is _ , Jae thought when he saw Brian exiting the physics classroom. Jae’s pace sped up, and before Brian could shove his attacker right back, Jae grabbed Brian’s arm and pushed them both into the nearest empty classroom without even a second thought. 

_ Score! _ Jae was probably going to get murdered now. At least he’d succeeded!

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing,” Brian rasped, seething with anger. His gaze faltered slightly when he saw Jae, but still headed straight back for the door. 

Jae slammed his hand over it, stepping in front of the doorway to impede him further. “We need to talk.”

“I don’t need to talk about anything.”

“You clearly do if you’re acting like an asshole again.”

Brian scoffed loudly, taking a defensive stance with crossed arms. “I never stopped,” Brian persisted. “Out of my way.”

Jae shook his head.

“Move,” Brian growled at this growing headache.

His opponent stood his ground, Brian getting closer. “Can you just listen to-”

“No!” Brian had reached his limit’s end. “No, I can’t listen to you because then I’ll believe what you say, only to hear something completely contradictory elsewhere.” 

“Wait, what?” Jae had thought through a lot of scenarios of this playing out, and that wasn’t one of the responses he’d predicted. 

“I don’t have time for this,” Brian sighed, and tried pushing again toward the door.

Jae wasn’t having that, not today. “Then make some.”

“I have… class.”

The senior deadpanned. “Oh come on, you can do better than that.  _ You? Class? _ ”

“Shut up.” Brian’s hip jutted out as his patience, or whatever was left of it anyway, ran even thinner. “Let me go,” he told Jae, warning.

But Brian wasn’t the only one pissed off. “You know, least you could do is give me an explanation,” Jae shoved Brian back, upset at the younger boy’s entire lack of remorse. “You flirt with me, you kiss me, but then you run away and avoid me like the plague. You cozy up to my best friend and refuse to even look at me unless you have to, and even then it’s a murderous glare at best. All while I try to just get one word out of you.”

Brian resumed  his defensive stance. “You kissed me.”

“Huh?” 

“You said I kissed you, but  _ you _ kissed  _ me _ .”

“Oh,” Jae scoffed, “I’m sorry. And was it me who put your hands in my hair and your tongue in my mouth?” He watched as a blush spread itself across Brian’s cheeks, no doubt because of anger as well as embarrassment.

Brian’s fists shook at his sides. 

“At least I don’t string people along when I have no intention of following through,” he threw back at Jae pointedly. 

_ What is he even saying, _ Jae thought with an incredulous stare. “Are you talking about me?!”

“You tell me. Is there anyone else here?” Brian asked snarkily. It was clear that a part of him was just looking to tick Jae off. He started yelling, “You don’t even know what you want, and you’re acting like some bi-curious frat boy-”

“Shhh!” Jae urged frantically. Jae rushed to him and scrambled to cup his palm over the boy’s mouth. 

“Put that hand over my mouth and I break your wrist.”

The eldest retracted his hand, quite fond of the idea of keeping both his wrists intact. “Alright. But you need to calm down.”

Brian’s eyes flashed. “I  _ need _ to calm down? I don’t need to do anything,” he clarified, “especially for you.”

Jae sighed, “Please? We won’t get through anything by yelling.”

Brian’s arms crossed over his chest and his right hip was jutting out in defiance. Still, he gave in with a small raise of his eyebrow.  

Jae sat down against one of the desks, inviting Brian to do the same. “Since I have absolutely no idea what you’re on about, let’s start at the beginning. Ever since I kissed you, as you  _ insist _ , you’ve completely ignored me. You wouldn’t respond to any of my texts, you stopped saying hi… you wouldn’t even  _ look _ at me!” Jae was staring at him intensely, his eyes demanding attention.

Brian had a neutral, unreadable expression as he struggled to maintain what little composure he had. 

“And then it got even weirder- you wouldn’t just ignore me, you started avoiding me. It’s like you’re angry that I’m in the same  _ room _ as you. Like the last thing you wanna do is look at me, much less talk to me like a normal human being. I mean, what the fuck?!” 

Jae was ranting now, his emotions getting the best of him. “And then you start hanging out with  _ Jiwoo _ ? My childhood best friend? You start laughing with her and texting her and hanging out with her. Like you and me used to,” he added bitterly. He hated the tone of his own voice. The desperation and hatred it donned. “Sungjin told me he saw you two at the park when he and Wonpilie were walking around,  _ ass o’clock _ at night!

“I don’t know if it’s because you want to rub it in, or if she’s just that much better of a friend, or because I’m so jealous. But…” Jae stuttered, “I hate this.”

Brian’s emotions whiplashed between confusion, rage, disbelief, and guilt. He didn’t know which part of this argument to tackle first.

Jae huffed out a weak breath. Angry was not a good look for him. “For fuck’s sake, Brian-ah, we weren’t just classmates. We were friends! Or… whatever. And you quit all at once.”

Looks like Jae had made it easy for him. “I quit because you confused me! I wasn’t ready to kiss you, or be with you like that,” Brian exploded. 

“I may have prodded and poked, but I  _ never _ pushed you to do something you didn’t want to do.”

Brian grumbled loudly. “That’s the problem!” He buried his face in his hands. “I wanted to kiss you and touch you, but don’t you get it? We can’t be together, people would lose their shit. It was dangerous enough when we were friends, you’d be dragged through  _ hell _ if it became something more. I did it for you!”

“No, you did it for  _ you _ .” Jae stopped pacing and looked at Brian accusingly. “You ran away because it was easier to ignore me. Even now you just want to run away!”

The room’s tension was at a climax.

“So what?! You didn’t go through what I did,” Brian reminded pointedly. “You have no fucking  _ idea  _ what I’ve been through! You’d run away too if you thought it would save you from going through it again, and pulling someone you cared about down with you.”

“...Why didn’t you just talk to me,” Jae asked in a vulnerable voice, hurt and guilty. 

There was a long silence, filled with hesitation and regret.

“Because,” Brian practically sighed, “I knew you’d convince me not to worry, and tell me everything would be fine. I’d believe you.”

Jae cracked a smile, his first one. “Sounds like me,” he said, smug. “Wait but that doesn’t make sense.”

“I meant, you’d tell me to just go for it, and I would, and then things would all go to shit. Not just for us, but for your friends. Our friends…” Brian added hesitantly. “So I just… made the executive decision myself."

“That wasn’t your choice to make. I can handle myself,” Jae defended like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

“Nothing’s going to change now anyway,” Brian said with finality.

“That’s stupid,” Jae mumbled, and started moving closer to Brian with purpose. His face inching closer and closer.

Brian swatted him away. “What are you doing?”

“Uh… I’m going to kiss you?” 

He received a prompt shove backwards and a disbelieving look. “No the fuck you are not.”

Jae was dumbfounded. “Wait I- weren't we just having a moment? You tragically reveal your reasons for abandoning me, I comfort you, all is forgiven. We kiss. The end?”

Brian looked at Jae, blinking. 

Jae waited. 

“The fuck do you think this is? A fanfiction?” Brian snapped.

Jae pursed his lips in wordless resignation. 

“This isn’t a joke, you know,” the younger boy began his second attack. “Stop making everything a joke. Can you be serious for once in your fucking life? Another thing, I’m not some gay college experiment for you to toy around with.” 

_ Whoa, what? _ “What are you talking about?” 

“You’ve stringed me along all this time and for what? To just tell me two days before your graduation that you don’t care about me at all? Cut off ties, tie up loose ends? Well, I’m no loose end. I’m not some straight boy’s damn plaything to keep you busy,” Brian word vomited, releasing weeks’ worth of frustration, his arms crossed. 

And it was Jae’s turn to be rendered speechless.

“If you weren’t interested  _ that _ way then you should’ve made that crystal fucking clear. Shouldn’t have flirted with me and told me you like me just to get into my pants,” he said, jabbing his finger at Jae’s chest.

“The ultimate irony is that I, who have tried so hard to keep to myself, fell for the most popular kid’s game,” Brian conceded, his voice cracking ever so slightly. He looked absolutely defeated, small and sad as he backed away further. “I put a lot on the line for you, years of effort and so much trust, just for you to say ‘ _ sike! _ ’? ‘ _ It wasn’t that deep! _ ’?!”

“Brian-ah,” Jae tried to keep up, “but I do like you. I like you so much, what are you saying?” For every step backwards, Jae took a step forward, closing the lost distance.

“And I suppose your ‘childhood best friend’ who’s known you your whole life is lying?!”

“Wait—”

“I don’t get you,” Brian interrupted, “you act all nice and shit and you spend so much time being my  _ friend _ , and then you tell me you like me, you make out with me. Then I hear a month later that you don’t have crushes, you don’t like people that way.  _ You don’t  _ like _ people _ ?! So what the hell do you want with me? To get rid of some annoying sexual urges? And you couldn’t find  _ anyone _ other than a lonely gay boy to do that with? I mean you obviously have no shortage of contenders if you went on a date with some girl.”

Jae was already trying hard to wrap his head around what Brian was firing at him when he scrambled to defend himself too. “That’s what I thought, for a long time! I’d never had a crush, I’d never felt romantic stuff, for anyone. But I do for you.”

Brian exhaled furiously through his nose, like a scoff. “Bull. Shit. I’m not jesus for your dick.”

“And for your information, the date was before we were together-”

“We were never together!”

“ _ Fine _ , it was before I  _ kissed _ you. There was never a second date. With anyone. You were all I’d think about. At home, at school. In the shower...”

The younger boy rolled his eyes at the insinuation. He was fidgeting with his hands distractedly. 

“Really, nothing happened between me and the girl!” Jae expertly avoided revealing that they’d kissed, since, ultimately, nothing really did happen. “She was actually the one who encouraged me to pursue you.”

“That’s pretty bold of her considering she didn’t know about your inability to feel but surprising willingness to trick me into thinking you do.”

Jae rubbed his hands over his face, begging Brian to understand. This was a mess and a half.  _ Damn it, Jiwoo! _ “It’s different now, something changed. Why is that so hard to believe?!”

Brian snapped at Jae, “Because people don’t change!”

“You did.”

At that, Brian stopped, and you could see a million thoughts and emotions pass over his face. The two parts of him were at war, the self-preserving side that had been successful for so long, and the lonely tired teenage side that just wanted to finally feel loved. 

Jae’s hands unabashedly came up to cup either side of Brian’s face, in a very intimate moment. He squirmed a little under the grasp.

“I like you, Kang Younghyun. I want to hold your hand and do all the gross PDA shit with you that only other taken people will tolerate, and listen to you play the bass on something other than that secret recording from four months ago, and come to your band practices. And when you’re a rich and famous musician we can be like those annoying couples who meet backstage after the big performance and have a dramatic kiss. Maybe some dressing room sex.”

Brian’s eyes shifted away from Jae’s face as he tried to conceal his reaction to that last part.

“Whatever happened in the past doesn’t matter. I just know this now, okay? I’m sure. Can you believe me?”

Crazy thing is, Brian believed him. He wanted to, with all his heart. But would he let himself do that?

“What happened to you being the confident gay, huh,” Jae tried lightening the mood. He felt the overwhelming need to resolve the conflict. This situation would be hard for anyone, but even more so for someone like Jae, whose life  _ revolved _ around making other people happy, laugh.  “Isn’t that how it is,  _ you _ the confident seasoned gay and  _ me _ the meek new gay? I think I’ve been the confident gay all along.”

If relief could be visible, it was in Brian’s eyes. “You’re just a confident dumbass. There’s a difference.”

“At least I can do math. I am the evolved breed of gay.”

“You can do everything. That means nothing.”

“Got me there,” Jae smirked, It felt good to joke around again. 

His hands came up to hold Brian’s face encouragingly as he awaited an answer, eyes smiling. Hopefully Brian wouldn’t mind his slightly soggy palms.

About ten seconds into his worried realization that sweaty palms are a major turn off, Jae felt the plush touch of Brian’s lips on his own. And not to be a hormonal teenage boy, but it was kind of the best feeling in the world. 

Jae had half a mind to reciprocate, and his hands slid back to interlock over Brian’s nape. And Brian didn’t need much encouragement when he pulled Jae closer with a hand on his back. It was surprisingly warm and their chests were flush against each other, their small height difference becoming more apparent now. Their lips moved gladly; this was no time for a conservative peck. Still, it was a gentle kiss, not rushed and deprived like their first. This felt more… loving. Yeah, loving.

There was confidence and trust in this kiss. They had all the time in the world, why rush?

Well someone obviously wanted the boys to move it along because there was a loud bang at the door, trying to get inside. Jae had locked the door before, thankfully.  _ Oh right, classroom. Locked classroom. Class. _

Wait!  _ Class _ _?!_ How long had they been in there?!

Brian and Jae were jolted apart, just slightly out of breath, and they didn’t have to speak to understand the issue. They were: fucked.

They’d kept a whole class of people waiting for god knows how long (which they weren’t allowed to do), by locking the door (which they weren’t allowed to do), because they were sorting out their gay relationship problems (which, again, they  _ weren’t allowed to do _ ).

“Punch me,” Jae told Brian.

“What?”

“Punch me! Pretend we were fighting.”

“I am not punching you.”

“Fine, I’ll punch you.”

Brian practically squeaked. “No!”

There were more pounds at the door. A janitor would be called to unlock the door any second now. Where was that kid to shout about the fifteen minute rule so they could all just leave?! There’s  _ always _ one kid.

“Shit! Uh…” Jae willed his mind to work its magic and come up with some brilliant idea.

Brian unconsciously held onto the hem of Jae’s shirt as he warned, staring at the door as if that would stop it from bursting open, “Hyung?” 

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck-”

Alright, well. They’re dead. 

\----------

There was a metallic taste in Wonpil’s mouth.

“That’s easier said than done, Dowoonie,” he told his friend. 

“A lot of things are, it doesn’t mean you should never try,” Dowoon replied. They were sitting across from each other at a tiny little table in one of the school’s study rooms. Their voices hushed, minding the noise to avoid getting hushed or written up.

“Hurts to try, y’ know,” Wonpil said with a nervous chuckle. His gaze shifted every few seconds, though Dowoon couldn’t discern whether that was a conscious choice.

“It’s been long enough.” 

There was a long pause. “What has?”

Dowoon cleared his throat. “You pining after Sungjin...”

Wonpil looked away. “Ah,” is all he could say at first. “I… I’m not  _ pining _ , I’ve been helping him with Jiwoo all this time!”

“Hyung, you’re in love with-”

“You know, it’s been kind of hard since they broke up,” Wonpil went on quickly, “and I don’t really know how to help them reconcile. I do think they’ll sort it out, or at least I hope. They’re both so wonderful. You could even say they  _ deserve _ to be together.”

“Hyung…”

“I wish I could help Sungjinie-hyung more, since he put his trust in me. He and Jiwoo-noona are great people, they’d make such pretty kids, haha.” Wonpil’s face was stretched into a tight smile, but it was ready to crack under the pressure. There was no eye-smile, just a tight pull at the corners of his mouth, begging to be believed.

He was rushing to say something, anything to fill the silence, leave no space for thought or honesty.

“Do you think things would be different between them if I’d tried harder? Maybe… Maybe something more. Set up more dates for them. Noona always told me she wanted a picnic date. Wasn’t it a picnic date? Ah right, I forgot that! I’m so bad at this, I could have told Sungjin-hyung. It really might be my fault, if I did that on purpose…”

“Hyung, stop.” 

Wonpil’s mouth closed, and his eyes shook as he looked,  _ really _ looked, at Dowoon. “Please.” 

It caught Dowoon off guard, because he didn’t know what to say. As Wonpil’s smile flaked away, his clenched jaw was revealed. His nostrils slightly flared, quivering at times. They remained suspended in silence, both afraid of what they might say. Wonpil felt his heart pulsate in his throat.

It hurt that he wasn’t a priority anymore. Maybe what hurt most was the thought, the realization, that he was never a priority for Sungjin in the first place. Well, not the way Sungjin was a priority for Wonpil. Or even how Wonpil was a priority for Jae. At best, he was a good friend to Sungjin. Sungjin had said that himself. Wonpil wasn’t his best friend, and certainly not his boyfriend. Stuck in a state of mediocrity.

That stung, no matter how well he knew it or how many times he said it. 

“You…” Dowoon began, struggling to find the right words, “You deserve better.” 

Wonpil’s fingers stopped their nervous tapping on the table, and he looked taken aback. “What’s  _ better _ , hmm?” His expression morphed into something between anger and desperation. “What’s better than the smartest, kindest, most attractive guy? Who’s better than Sungjin?!”

He wasn’t yelling, but there was a stubborn vein protruding from the side of his neck. It was obvious that Wonpil was reaching his limit. 

Or he already had, and now he was crashing.

“Someone who likes you too,” Dowoon said clearly and plainly, though in his eyes something flashed.

Obviously, that wasn’t something Wonpil was ready or willing to hear. Though deep down somewhere, Wonpil knew what was coming next. What this had all been leading to. He’d been expecting it for some time. He knew it in the library a few days ago, and he knows it now.

\----------

By some miracle or another, Team 6 had prevailed over the first two elimination rounds of basketball. There were some teams still left, but at least they’d avoided the miserable fate of being the first team out. 

Sungjin gained a surge of confidence with every victory. Maybe their ragtag team could actually win this thing. 

They’d been on a good streak, all of them getting along surprisingly well as time went on. The last month or so was rocky, what with their two eldest, Sungjin and Jae, off their  _ game _ (no pun intended). But today, like yesterday, Jae was looking rejuvenated and excited. I wonder why.

“So how did you get out,” Sungjin asked eagerly after news of Jae and Brian’s little lock-in stunt spread around like wildfire. Not unlike anything else concerning Jae.

“I had to pretend I fainted. Brian carried me out all dramatically,” Jae explained of the recent incident. “My hero.” 

Brian rolled his eyes and moved out of Jae’s grasp. “You weigh more than you look, that’s for sure.”

“It’s my massive brain,” he said with an innocent smile. “Not to mention my massive di-”

Sungjin put up his hand,  “Let me just stop you. Right there.” Jae still winked at Brian, who looked away disgusted. You can take the man out of the gutter, but you can never take the gutter out of the man. 

Dowoon was observing silently, as per usual, seemingly the only one who was utilizing the  _ purpose _ of the lockerroom they were in and actually getting dressed. No reason to prolong his stay in his smelly hellhole.

“But fainting doesn’t explain why you were in there for, like, fifteen minutes. With the door locked,” Wonpil expertly changed the subject. 

“Actually,” Jae started confidently, but turned to his accomplice helplessly. “Wait I don’t know either, what did you tell them? I took my acting a little too seriously and miiiight have fallen asleep.”

“Unbelievable,” Sungjin muttered.

Brian looked a bit ashamed as he revealed, “I told them he wasn’t feeling well and needed a quiet place to calm down. Panic attack. They didn’t ask any more questions after that.” He was starting to get a headache at the thought of it.

“Oh, so you lied about a mental illness,” Wonpil looked between them, scrutinizing. “That’s great. Real classy.”

Brian just turned away holding his temples while Jae shrugged. “We did what we needed to do to survive.”

“You’re a horrible person.”

“I know, it keeps me up at night.”

“Anyway,” Sungjin cut in, “what were you really doing in there anyway?”

“In where?” Jae played  _ very _ dumb as Brian skillfully busied himself with very slowly tying his shoelaces.

“The classroom.”

“Which classroom?”

Dowoon looked at Wonpil in question, wondering if Jae had finally really lost it. 

“What do you mean  _ which classroom _ ? The one we’ve been talking about for the past five minutes. The one you fainted in.”

Jae hummed. “I haven’t fainted since the third grade when my sister made me smell my own shoe.”

“Okay,” Sungjin said, praying for strength while Wonpil prayed for Sungjin’s strength, “the one you  _ pretended _ to faint in.”

“Ah. That classroom, hehe…”

Brian tried not to draw attention to his awkward stature, pretending not to pay attention while being completely focused on the conversation. Was that a shiver of fear that just ran down his spine? How was Jae going to get them out of this without exposing their forbidden gay Romeo and Juliet love story? More like… Romeo and Julien.

A tiny bead of sweat, secured along his hairline, threatening to fall. He looked at Jae’s cool face and wondered what was going on in there.

“Mm, can’t remember! So long ago…” 

Oh. Absolutely nothing. There was nothing going on in there.

And with that Jae draped his arm over Brian’s shoulders all nice and cozy and dragged him along toward the exit. Brian’s belt buckle, which was still undone, clanked freely all the way to the door.

“Wait- Agh! See you later!” Wonpil yelled after them. He looked at their retreating backs confused, though he’d stopped trying to understand Jae’s behavior a long time ago. He really wasn’t sure that Jae understood it himself.

“Can he get any weirder,” Sungjin said offhandedly, though that was a  _ loaded _ question. 

“Don’t jinx it, hyung. Brian is already starting to lose his street cred because hanging out with Jae too much has made him all weird too!” 

\---------

Choco unabashedly licked a clean stripe up Wonpil’s cheek, and Wonpil tried not to think about all the mischievous things she’d been up to in the backyard that day.  _ Please no dead squirrels today…  _

Still, he got up to scrub his face a little harder than normally garnered by his skincare routine. This is what he gets for letting her sleep in his bed. Ah, that spoiled pup. She lives in luxury and she doesn’t even know it.

Admittedly the lukewarm water felt good on his skin, excluding the absolute soaking mess he always makes of his shirt everytime he washes his face. Good thing his pajama tshirt wasn’t winning any awards anyway, and that’s already being generous. 

Wonpil’s eyes grazed over the small clock next to the sink- 1:00 AM. Huh! Not bad at all, by his standards at least. 

His eyes moved upward to meet the mirror’s reflection, staring back at him. He looked over his hair, how it was getting a little longer than he’d like. Then his eyebrows, somewhat shaded by his bangs. His nose, his chin, jawline. Moving his neck, he inspected the column of his throat. The prominence of his adam’s apple, collarbones. Back up to his lips and the small cupid’s bow. Long, fine lines etched into his lower lip. He tried to look at it all through someone else’s eyes. What would they see?

Wonpil sighed. “Do I have to?” 

But he already knew the answer. One in the morning was as good a time as any. Wonpil wouldn’t call it impulsive, because it’s been a long time coming, but it was certainly going to be a “hit it and quit it” sort of thing, so he might as well just get it over with. 

With a confident march back to his bed, Wonpil threw his own ass onto the mattress, ending up in a cross legged pose and avoiding squishing Choco by a narrow margin. He reached over to the bedside table and snatched up his phone, a man with intent as he clicked on his messages to locate his target contact. Sungjin.

_ Do it fast. _

He was always over Sungjin until he wasn’t, Wonpil reasoned with himself. A long weekend without seeing him and Wonpil could sometimes breathe again. He would start to  _ forget _ the excruciating pain of the last six months. When he’d blink he wouldn’t see Sungjin’s milky skin and raven hair, loving eyes, staring at Jiwoo. 

A phone call. Free periods at the library. A moment of chance in the hallway, and he was sent tumbling back. Just like an addict, he’d relapse; back into Sungjin. But he loved it, he lived for those moments, however brief. He was chasing a high, an unachievable dream. 

Because Wonpil loved Sungjin. And Sungjin didn’t love him. 

“Ah,” he said in a small voice. His head slumped and his shoulders began to tremble.  _ I thought about it too much _ . 

A tear made its way down his cheek, and it was the first of many. He hadn’t cried like this since December, after the girls’ soccer game. That reminds him, Jae’s ungrateful ass never returned his umbrella. He’ll have to reserve that thought for Monday’s homeroom.

The pitchy sound of Choco’s whine pierced through the room. Sensing Wonpil’s pain, she jumped onto his lap with her paws against his chest, reaching for his face so she could lick away the tears. No it wasn’t just because tears are salty and dogs like salty things. Choco is a sensitive creature.

Wonpil didn’t want dead squirrel on his face again so he quickly wiped away the tear stains from his cheeks. “It’s okay, I’m okay,” he reassured Choco as he took her face in his hands delicately. Looking Choco in the eyes, maybe a promise of honesty to himself, he said, “I just have to let go.”

Dowoon’s voice suddenly echoed through the walls of his mind. Wonpil had to make a decision, and this one had to be  _ final _ . 

Let. Him. Go.

With a deep breath, as calmly as he could muster, he started typing on his phone almost right away. He didn’t stop until he pressed send, not even reading it over for mistakes. 

The phone was thrown across the bed, getting lost under the sheets.  _ As long as I can’t see it _ . Wonpil turned over and forced his eyes shut, wishing for sleep to overtake him. Behind him on the bed, Choco could see his shoulders silently shake.

_ Hi hyung!! I hope I’m not waking you with this message, just wanted to tell u that I won’t be coming to the library during second period anymore. I was offerd a tutoring job so I gotta work during my free period and after school. Crazy stuff! I’m gonna be super busy so I won’t be seeing or talking to you much outside of gym class. I also wanted to talk to you about something else… I can’t keep helping you with Jiwoo-noona, I think I’ll lose her trust if I keep convenienlty bringing you wherever she is and relaying everything to you. I’m really really sorry hyung, I wish I could have done more for u, reallyy. I know you can win her heart, anyone would be so lucky as to be loved by you. Heh. You deserve to be happy, more than you knw. I’ll be cheering you on hyung! I love you  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no i'm not dead :D it's finALLY summer for me so that means i get to spend all my time writing and sleeping which is always a win hehe   
> yall better be thriving because you deserve it


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